Ultimate Sledding

Christmas is a time for:
family, friends, snow, remembering Jesus Christ, and riding a canoe down a snow covered slope.

Growth

He huddled alone in the sweat tent . The ceremony was coming to a close. Memories of a good life flowed before his closed eyes. From a very young age he knew this day would come. He was leaving the life of a boy behind, hopefully, if he survived, he'd become a man. One of the village elders entered the small tent. The Elder squatted nearby studying the boys face. When the Elder was satisfied he said, "it's time". Startled from his meditation, the boy opened his eyes. The Elder stood and walked out of the tent. Taking a deep breath the boy stepped out of the tent into the bright light. The whole village was waiting. They stood around the hut whispering in clusters. Just ahead on the path the Elder waited patiently. With a wave of his arm he beckoned the boy to continue down the path. He tried to act stoic as he marched through the village. As he passed a group of girls they began giggling, his face turned bright red. He followed the path out of the village and into the woods. At first it stayed level, but eventually the path grew steeper. After a while the boy found himself at the top of a cliff. He stood on the edge, and looked down. Far below was village he had left, along with his childhood. The cliff was covered in jagged cold rocks. This was his final step to becoming a man. With a grin he stepped off the cliff.

The air flew passed his face, whispering of an end. Suddenly a falcon swooped in to land on his back. It dug it's claws into his flesh. A large chunk of his back tore free. The boy cried out in pain. Then another bird appeared. Again it latched onto his back, and again it tore off a piece of flesh. Bird after bird swooped in, and tore a piece of flesh from the falling boy.

The villagers stood at the base of the cliff waiting to see if the boy had failed in his preparation. 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 20 minutes passed by. There was no sign of the boy. With a loud cough the village Elder drew the attention of the villagers away from the cliff. He was standing outside the sweat tent once more. He reached towards it and pulled up the flap. Hundreds of birds burst from the tent. Inside they found the body of an unconscious man.

Freedom-exemption from external control, interference, regulation, etc.

Lately I've found myself becoming more and more frustrated. I feel restrained. My problem is not so much needing to realize that I am stuck. My problem is trying to escape the box. If I was a magician my magic went terrible awry. It is a feeling of being stuck in a small, dark box, just large enough to fit, but every corner is filled with my fleshy body. The oxygen is running out, and I can't escape. I plan and plan, but buying a motorcycle and riding it to Mexico would only give me temporary freedom. Eventually I would find myself in an even smaller box. I've thought of transversing the globe on my own two feet, but it would be lonely. I'm afraid this magician has lost his magic. Sometimes I feel like the only thing I can do is take a deep breath....... and let it out. Maybe if I am patient for a long enough period of time, breathing slowly..........I'll eventually find my magic again.

Bread for Jose

In a world of dreams people never sleep. There is no need. Magic runs rampant throughout the world, glittering like fresh snow at the dawn of day. Angels sing, and dinosaurs roar. Cowboys sing songs and tell stories next to bonfires. In a world of dreams, eagles cry and mice don't die. Unfortunately for Jose he didn't live in a world of dreams. Instead poor Jose lived in a dreary world. A world where money ruled and the poor went hungry. Jose was one of the poor. If you pause for a moment, listening to the silence seep, you can hear the gurgle of Jose's tummy.
"Oh, Jose," it cries. "I want some bread! I want some bread to fill me up".
Jose then replies, "I'm sorry my stomach. I have no bread to feed you today. Maybe tomorrow I will have bread to feed you". This was the story of Jose, his stomach complaining and his reply. One day while Jose lay on the side of a dirt road, a large man, waddled towards him.
"Boy, come help me with my groceries," ordered the man. "I need to buy my food and my servant boy is sick today. If you help I will give you a small loaf of bread".
It was a miracle. "Stomach, today I will fill you up with bread," Jose whispered.
Jose followed the large man down the dusty street to the store. Then he followed the man through the store grabbing the groceries the man wanted. The large man bought a lot of food. He bought olives, steak, chicken, bacon, fruits of every kind, he even bought a bar of chocolate. The one thing the man didn't buy was bread. After the man paid for his groceries Jose hauled them across town to the large mans house.
"Boy," said the man. "put those groceries away and then leave". Jose took the groceries to the kitchen and put the food away. Then he went back to the large man and asked, "sir you said you would give me some bread for my services". The large man laughed a deep, mocking laugh. "Boy" he said, "you are a fool. I have no bread for you". Jose left the large mans house and went back to his street.
"Stomach", said Jose "That large man is a liar, he gave me no bread to fill you up with".
"Jose, I was told I would have bread today, but I had no bread. I am even hungrier than before," his stomach moaned.
"I am sorry stomach, maybe I'll find you bread tomorrow" said Jose.
The next day Jose was sitting on the same street when the large man came by again. "Boy" he said, "I need more groceries today. Come carry them for me".
So Jose, trusting the large man, carried his groceries. And again the large man laughed at Jose when he asked for some bread. Every day for a week the large man would tell Jose to carry his groceries, and every day he laughed at Jose.
At the end of the week Jose was waiting for the large man to come ask him to carry the groceries, but the man never came. Instead a skinny man in a fancy suit walked down the street. The man walked up to Jose and asked, "are you Jose the grocery boy?"
"My name is Jose", he replied.
"Well I need you to carry my groceries for me", the skinny man said.
Standing up Jose followed the man to the grocery store. The skinny man bought many, many groceries. He bought everything the large man would buy, but he bought much more. He even bought bread. As they left the store the skinny man turned to Jose and said, " The large man is my brother, he is mean and a liar. He told me how he makes you carry his groceries every day without giving you bread. These groceries are for you. I apologize for my brother. He will no longer ask you to carry his groceries". The skinny man walked away, leaving Jose with many, many groceries.
"Stomach" Jose said. "Today I will fill you up with bread".

The Wifery

The wind blew the autumn leaves around and around. A man walked alone among this concert of excitement and loss. With each step his shoes would scuff the cold cement. He walked up to one of the many doors lining the street, pulled out a key and unlocked the door. With a heavy sigh he walked into the cold dark house. Too tired to make dinner, the man found himself slumped on the couch staring blankly at the television. He was remembering.

"It's time", he said to his friend.
"Time for what?" his friend replied.
"I'm going to get a wife," he said.
After a minute of sitting in awkward silence his friend asked," where will you get her from?"
"I've looked into three stores, wife patch, soul match, and wife in a basket. I've decided to try wife in a basket. They seem to have slightly better quality than the other two," he replied.

The front of the store was clean and neat. Above the entrance a large yellow sign with swirling red letters read, "Welcome to wife in a basket, come on in and get a wife". Choking down his anxiety the man pushed open the door. Responding to the door a little pudgy man popped up from behind the cash register.
"What can I help you with today?" the storekeeper asked.
"I'm looking for a wife," he replied.
"Well you came to the right store; all we sell here are wives and wives aplenty. What is your preference?" the store keeper asked.
With a look of confusion the man replied, "I'm not sure, this is my first time getting a wife".
"If you just walk this way then, I'll show you our wonderful selection of wifery," said the storekeeper.
The man followed the storekeeper trying not to be overwhelmed by the gawking women. He was about to give up when he saw her. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Only ten feet away she waited, eyeing this prospective husband up and down. There was coolness about her, a sense of self that many other women didn't have. Her light brown hair graced the top of her shoulders and her eyes sparkled with the light of a thousand stars.
"I'll take her," he said to the storekeeper.
"Excellent choice, if you step this way we can make it official" said the storekeeper.

On the drive home, the man had a hard time controlling his enthusiasm. No longer would he have to spend the long holiday season alone. The cold winter months would finally be filled with companionship instead of loneliness. As he turned the corner to his house he realized the woman was crying.
"Why are you crying?"He asked.
With a sniffle she replied, "All my life I've dreamed of this moment. I dreamed that one day a man would come and buy me and we would travel home together. Finally this day has come, and I've realized I don't want it. I just want to be free. I want to be able to choose a husband for myself. I don't want you for my husband".

His heart stopped. Everything had been so perfect. He had actually bought himself a wife, but suddenly she didn't want him as a husband. Darkness filled his soul. He stopped the car in front of his house and said, "If you don't want me I won't force it". Fiddling with the keychain he removed his house key and got out of the car.
With a face of stone he said, "For your troubles take my car, and farewell. All your belongings are in the trunk". Then he walked away, leaving his happiness, and companionship behind.

Music to my Mouth, Not my Ears

Today Jenny made some scrumptious cookies. There are hundreds of different kinds of cookies, but nothing beats a classic. The cookies Jenny made were chocolate chip. They were warm with a slightly crunchy surface. When I took a bite it seemed to melt in my mouth. There were just enough chocolate chips to satisfy a chocolate craving, not so many that it overwhelmed you. Not a single cookie was burnt. My only regret is that there aren't enough to share with everyone. At least I was able to experience this amazing experience. Don't worry, I'll think of all of you while I eat a few more.

Call Me Captain

Rarely do pranks ever enter my life. Maybe because I've always lived at home, but that doesn't matter. Anyways, I have two friends, Kenny and Elisa that work together. The other day I was eating ice cream with the Elisa. She was complaining that she can't ever prank Kenny. Apparently Kenny is all-knowing, and knows every trick in the book and to go along with his brilliance there is an invizible shield protecting him. I have to admit when we feel like causing mischief we know Kenny will have some great ideas. Anyways Elisa wanted to prank Kenny, she asked if I would help. Those are dangerous words. You don't want to get involved in a prank-off with Kenny. But I decided it was time to unleash my creativity on a world of chaos and humiliation. A world that until now I have avoided. In other words I decided to help Elisa. We talked for a while and came up with some good ideas, but realized they needed work. We parted ways with an understanding of great secrecy. Or so I thought. Today Kenny stole Elisa's phone. Using her phone he texted me trying to find out if I would help Elisa prank him. Realizing that it was Kenny trying to figure out my allegiance I didn't give anything away. Later when I was talking to Kenny I found out that Elisa told Kenny I would help her prank him. At that moment I decided needed to prank both of them. Kenny because he is the master, and Elisa because she betrayed me. So I developed a beautiful plan to cause mischief, humiliation, and a downright sense of being beaten by the best, and put it into action. We'll see how it goes. The only reason I divulge my secret now is it can't be stopped. Also so that when it happens ya'll will know I am the new Prank master. But you can call me captain.

Corruption, Presidents, and Ralph Nader

I figure since the election day is here, I might as well jump on the band wagon of political posting. I'd like to say that a candidate represents me and my morals. That would be a lie. I would also like to say that I am well educated on the different issues. That would also be a lie. Most of my information comes from Saturday Night Live, or the Simpsons. Although my sources may not always be the best, there is a lot of truth in sarcasm and humor. In my most humble opinion neither of the two men with a chance of becoming the next president deserves that title. Time after time they change their stance on issues. Neither candidate has the same morals that I approve. John McCain tries too hard to get votes. He plays a popularity game with America. He understands that he isn't as charismatic as Barack Obama. Trying to make up for that fact he recruited Sarah Palin. Oh boy, that was a mistake. She talks and talks, never shutting up. I don't have to point out all the times she sticks her big heavy snow boot into her mouth. Obama may be a charismatic speaker, but he is a sleazy business man as well. Inexperience runs rampant throughout his campaign. I can't vote for Obama or McCain. This is a lucky day for Ralph Nader. Without changing his campaign in the last couple of decades, Nader won my vote. It's a shame I forgot to register.

All Alone

Last night my friends and I decided to have a spur of the moment Jazz game party. Each of us had an assignment. Reagan was to pick up Sarah and some pizza. Miles and Kelly were to get some cheese fries and apple beer. Kenny was just supposed to show up, (he had been working all night). My assignment was to get some girls to come. Thinking back I'm pretty sure my assignment was a joke. Out of all my friends, I know the fewest people and can be the most introverted. But being the team player that I am, I took my assignment to heart. First I went to the apartment of some girls I barely know (miles recommended I stop there). Only one of the girls was home and she was playing cards with some guy. I still invited her, but she didn't show up. Then I was walking back to my car when I saw a couple of girls walking down the street. Deciding that I was going to take my assignment seriously I walked up to the girls to invite them. Neither one of them came. Next I went to another girls apartment. She wasn't home. After that I decided to call almost every girl in my phone. Only one of them answered and she was busy. I should have quit right then, but like I said I was serious about this assignment. I then proceeded to go to the apartment of another girl. I didn't really know her, but one time Miles, Si, and I randomly knocked on her apartment. Nobody was home at her apartment either. In the end I showed up at Reagan's house completely alone. Later when Kenny showed up he said, "No girls, I guess Zac failed" (or something like that). Well I guess I did fail, but at least I tried.

Liberation

Sometimes I let my imagination get the better of me. I sit and daydream of a day when I won't be in school. A day that leads to the nutrition of my actual desires. No longer will I be liable for busy work assigned to me in a class that I don't want to attend. I'll finally have the freedom to choose what I want to do. My research, my writing, my peace of mind will be my own. Then the ticking of a clock wakes me from my dreams. Liberation will have to wait for another day. All I can do until that day is to doggy paddle along, hoping that a wave doesn't come along to submerge my hopes.

This I Believe

This post was inspired by npr's program, This I Believe.



The other day I bought a handmade Alpaca wool poncho. My poncho reminded me of a time when my hero was John Wayne and my dreams were filled with cowboys, horses, rope, and yogurt. My biggest worry was avoiding the bathtub. I didn’t care about presidential candidates or illegal immigration. The term “politics” meant nothing to me. I can remember the pride I felt every morning in elementary school when we would recite the Pledge of Allegiance. "I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." This was my America. This was my home. Underneath all the corruption, all the spite and envy, underneath the pain and the politics, this is a land of freedom. The words on the Statue of Liberty written by Emma Lazarus say, “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door." The United States of America is still my home. This I believe.

Me vs. the Raptor

I could survive for 1 minute, 6 seconds chained to a bunk bed with a velociraptor

Created by Bunk Beds.net

Answer Honestly!

Police Beat: Phonecall Hypnotization

I found this article in the police beat of BYU's infamous newspaper, The Daily Universe (police beats are the best and only slightly decent part of the paper).

Oct. 18, 2008:
A female resident of Wymount Terrace called in a suspicious phone call in which a man made statements with the intent of hypnotizing the student. The student said she does not remember most of the conversation, but remembers she called him master. Police say it is virtually impossible to hypnotize over the phone.


My favorite part is when she called him "master". And if I've learned anything about technology, nothing is virtually impossible. I wonder if this mysterious hypnotist gets a lot of dates by hypnotizing innocent girls over the phone. If so I've got to learn his technique.

Dentists and Doctors, cohorting with the Devil

Have you ever gone to a Doctors office. 90% of the trip consists of waiting to see the doctor. 5% is actually spent with the doctor. He'll either prescribe medication or tell you that you that all the tests are normal and you can leave. Which doesn't seem to answer any questions, but by this time you have spent so much time sitting in the doctors office you just want to get out of there, so you don't push the issue. The other 5% is leaving the office. As awful as visiting the doctor can be, I'd rather see them then a dentist. You spend half your visit to the dentist in a waiting room. But the other half you spend sitting in a chair having some newly trained hygienist scrubbing away at your mouth. Eventually the Dentist will come in. He'll be wearing some glasses that make his eyes bulge like a fish, and a smile that everyone knows is fake. He'll act like you are the best of buds, ask how you've been and what you've been doing. He'll want to know if you are going to school, and if so what classes you are taking. He'll ask if you're married and if not try to hook you up with the hygienist, but then realize she is married. He will ask all these things while he his starring down your throat, jabbing away at your teeth and gums. How the heck are you supposed to answer any of his questions? I'm pretty sure dentist are either really good at talking to themselves or they are fluent in Grunt. Eventually he'll get tired of deciphering each grunt so he'll turn his attention to the hygienist. He'll then proceed to ask her how she is doing, what she has been doing and how her husband is. They will then have a lengthy discussion about how the hygienist recently visited her in laws. Meanwhile you are left sitting in a chair with your mouth open, looking like a dead fish. Eventually the Dentist will finish up and tell you that you have a cavity and he needs to see you sometime in the next month so he can remove it. Then he gets up and leaves. The hygienist will give you a little baggy consisting of a cheap toothbrush, a small tube of toothpaste, a little container of dental floss, and a sticker. Truly the only thing worth keeping is the sticker. She'll then inform you that your co-pay is due and that while you are at it you might as well pay for the next seven visits you'll be having because they will all be within the next couple of months. At least a Doctor has enough sense to send you the bill instead of haranguing you with it after they've tortured you for the last two hours.

A life more ordinary

For weeks now I have been wondering how to escape the regularity of everyday life. It has really been weighing me down. The last thing I wanted was to give in to the ordinary. I wanted to make my life different. Aware of the worry that I cause my family, I can't help but to scheme ways to achieve my goals. I even got to the point that I wanted to drop out of school, buy a dog, name it Biskut, and then roam North America on a motorcycle. Although it would lead to acheivement of some goals such as: getting a dog and a motorcycle. I realized that doing something like that isn't what I am looking for. It wouldn't lead to the freedom that I seek. Unfortunately most of my other plans followed suit, they never quite seemed to satisfy my desires. I was at a loss (and still am). As hard as I tried I couldn't find or even create "my neverland". Through my pursuit of irregularity I have learned a few things:
5 month old neices are great listeners.
It is harder than it seems to become a gypsie.
Life as a pirate is great, but short lived.
Television is the nemesis of creativity.
Pie is sweeter than cake.
A dead mouse is an unhappy mouse.
As my life has moved on, slowly, ever so slowly. I go to college, I date periodically, I go to church, I sleep in church, I play, I work, my life it has seemed extremely ordinary. It is filled with a regularity I have been trying to avoid. I don't own a motorcycle, and I don't have a dog named Biskut. Although my life is ordinary I've realized something important about ordinary lives. They aren't always ideal, but they are real. For now all I can do is to dream of "my neverland". I know dreams never achieved anything, but It is those dreams that keep me going in a life that is filled with regularity. As long as I have dreams there is hope of finding the freedom that I seek.

Scottish Blood

For Saturdays football game I got in touch with my Scottish ancestry. Realizing that the game was huge, I decided to paint my face Braveheart style. It seemed to work. I think that from now on I'll paint my face Braveheart style. FREEDOM!

(byu 59, ucla 0)

This is the after affects of the pepper spray.

The Spray of Doom

Have you ever accidentally rubbed Jalapeno pepper juice on your face? Now, picture yourself dunking your head in a bucket of jalapeno juice. Times the pain that it causes by 500 hundred and that is what I went through tonight. I had the opportunity (through work) to be sprayed by pepper spray. Before we were sprayed we were warned that it was reminiscent to a scene from "Raiders of The Lost Ark", you know the part when they open the ark and the guys face gets eaten off. Yep, that part. Luckily it wasn't quite that bad. I recommend that everyone tries it at least once. That way I can laugh while I watch your face get eaten away.

Robots in Disguise

PLEASE DO NOT RESPOND TO THIS MESSAGE, as it will not be seen nor read by a human.

Level sixty one is incomplete. Please do not repeat. Level nine is galactical and sublime. Prepare to tear your mind, level 29 is one of a kind.

PLEASE DO NOT RESPOND TO THIS MESSAGE, as it will not be seen nor read by a human.

RM Syndrome

Because of friendly influences I attempted to try something I don't normally try. Needless to say it is slightly embarrassing. You see there is a girl, I knew her for about a week. Then a few weeks passed by and I had forgotten about her. Until I got an email saying we should keep in touch. I reacted about the same as I normally would. My first thoughts were, "Holy crap, how the heck did she get my email". It didn't take long for me to figure out how she achieved such a task. I'm not necessarily the most secure person. Most of my contact info is listed through BYU. Anyways, I reciprocated and stalked her a little bit. I wanted to know more about the type of girl that would stock me. Well I ended up with a information about her. (She is a nice girl, and is attractive too). Then today, after getting some friendly peer pressure, I changed the way I normally do things. I actually used the number and called her. This is where it gets embarrassing. I didn't have the guts to just ask her out . So I asked her if she wanted to go see a movie, and that she could bring a friend too, because I was trying to convince my brother to come. (At the time it seemed rational. It would give me an opportunity to get to know her a little better, but without the awkward date situation). Anyways, Little K didn't want to play and she didn't have any friends that wanted to come either. So it ended up being just the two of us. The evening actually was alright except the fact that it felt an awful lot like a secret date; I'm 15 years old but wanted to go on a date with that girl so I lied to my parents and told them I was going to a movie with a bunch of friends, but really I planned it so it would just be the two of us, kind of date. I'm wondering if she considered it a date too. Wow! So now I'm left pondering my awkward behaviour, trying to figure out why I acted like a spaz. I felt so much like a return missionary its scary, I haven't even served a mission. I'm doomed.

Clearance

I was shopping with my family. We were in some sort of clothing store. All the clothes had ridiculous prices. There was no way I could afford anything. Then I saw the clearance section. It was filled with warm weather clothes for girls. I was getting very frustrated. I just wanted some shorts. Then suddenly, right before my eyes was a beautiful winter jacket. It had a tan linen outside, with a hood. It was almost rustic looking, but obviously new. I tried it on. The inside was lined with fleece. I had never before found a jacket so marvelous, so comfortable, and in clearance. There was no price on the jacket. Obviously someone had misplaced it in the clearance section. Deciding not to give up I found a store clerk and asked her how much the jacket was.
She said, "Oi, that beautiful thing is $9".
I couldn't believe it. I decided to try it on again to make sure that I wanted to buy it.
The store clerk said, "that is one fine jacket sir. It really fits you great".
I looked around for my family, but they couldn't be found. Again I noticed how the clearance section was mostly women's summer clothing.
Feeling slightly curious about the jacket I asked, " why is this jacket on clearance?"
The clerk replied, " the airbags are malfunctioning".
I made the mistake of laughing. She punched my arm. POOF!

Pancake Zac

The hot summer days seemed to be evaporating before my eyes. There was change in the air. Autumn was nearly here. My favorite way to spend the evenings was to doze in a rocking chair. Back and forth I'd rock, remembering the good ol'days when Apple Beer cost only a nickel. The sound of two boys wrestling around in the dirt waffled through the air, breaking my sweet remembrance,
"CHEATER!" yelled one.
"AM NOT!" yelled the other.
Around and around they rolled, punching, clawing, biting, spitting, doing anything young boys could think of.
"HOLD UP THERE", I roared.
Neither one payed notice. Trying again I said, "Stop this bickering boys".
They continued rolling around like wild animals.
"Hey I'll give you both five dollars if you stop", I said.
Their scuffle paused momentarily.
"Really?" they asked in unison.
"No, I just wanted to see if you could hear me", I replied.
They began fighting again. Realizing that they weren't listening to words, I decided to try a different tactic. Lifting my old body out of my rocker I reached over and grabbed my cane. I used it to hobble over to the occupied boys. When I got close enough I began whacking. "Take that, and that, and this," I said as I smacked them with my cane.
"Ouch!" Said one.
"Ouch!" Said the other.
"Stop!" they said together.
I just kept whacking away.
"Why, OUCH! Why are you, OUCH! doing this, OUCH! too us?" asked one of the boys.
"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me", I replied with a chuckle.
"What?" Screamed the other boy.
"My words didn't work so I figured I'd use sticks and stones. Hopefully my stick works, if it doesn't I'm going to start using stones", I cackled.
"We'll stop!" they yelled,"please just don't hit us with your cane any more!"
"Alright", I said, as I whacked them again for good measure.
I stood eyeing them as they caught their breath. Both boys looked to be about 11 years old. They were covered in so much dirt you could hardly tell they were humans.
"So what type of argument could make creatures like yourselves roll around in the dirt?" I asked.
"He called me a cheat!" one said, pointing to the other.
"He is a cheat!" Said the other, pointing to the one.
Before they could begin fighting again I whacked them on their heads.
"OUCH!" They yelped.
"Well did you cheat?" I asked the boy with that label.
"Just a little bit!" he replied.
"How about you?" I asked, pointing at the other. "Did you cheat too?"
"Not as much as he did", he replied.
"Hmmm, so you both cheated? but neither of you wants to be called a cheater? Is that correct?", I asked.
"Yes sir", they replied.
Trying not to smile at their serious response I said, "Why don't both of you climb up onto my porch here, and I'll give you an apple beer and tell you a story about cheaters".
Realizing there was no way out of listening to an old timer like myself, they answered, "yes sir". I knew they didn't really want to listen, but it gave me someone to talk to, so I ushered them onto my creaky old porch and gave them a cold apple beer.

Many, many years ago there was a young man. His name was Zachary, but most people just called him Pancake, or Pancake Zac. You see, ever since Pancake could remember, pancakes were his specialty. He could make blueberry, craisinberry, chocolate, whole wheat, half wheat, no wheat, sweet, not sweet, or just plain'ol pancakes. You name it and he could make it with a pancake. For miles around everybody knew Pancake could make the best darn pancakes there ever were. Well one day Pancake found himself in a game of Texas Hold'em. Boy oh boy was it a game to remember. This game had begun in a tournament of cards. Everybody and their dogs had started, but now there were only four people left. Wiley Cry, a Native American brave, Susie Mcdougal the local inn keeper, Smelly Tom the barber, and Pancake himself. Oh and also Smart Henries dog. (I said four people, Henries dog was still in). Needless to say, everyone of those people (and the dog) were incredibly handy when it came to card playing. There were bluffs, calling bluffs, Straights, full houses, Royal Straights, you name it they played it. The game went on and on, nobody gaining ground on the other competitors. The night came and went, morning arrived, then left, then the day passed on by, Still they played, and played and played. Nobody was going to give in. Well Pancake being an intelligent young man, knew he could only take so much more. So he hatched a plan, so devious and sly he couldn't believe Wiley handn't thought of it before him. Yet again the night went by and morning arrived.
"Hey there Susie", Pancaked said. "If you give in now I'll make you pancakes for a month". And he really would, he kind of liked Susie, she was an awefully nice critter for those parts.
Susie gave Pancake one of the sweetest smiles he had ever seen and replied, "Those darn pancakes you concoct aren't worth the tail of a door mouse". Everyone nearby gasped. Nobody had ever passed up Pancake's pancakes.
"Dang Susie you must never have had my Royal raspberry pancakes before!" Pancake replied in mock surprise. "I like to go pick some fresh raspberries, then I sprinkle them into the batter. After I fry them up I sprinkle a little bit of powdered sugar on top. OH! I almost forgot, after the light sprinkle of powdered sugar I add some of my mama's special buttermilk syrup. Hmmm it's making my mouth water just thinking of it."
"This is no card game, this is torture! Pancake if you make me half a dozen of those special Raspberry pancakes I'll quit now!" Wiley yelled as he stuck out his hand for Pancake to shake.
"Deal", Pancake yelled back, grabbing Wiley's hand before he could take it back.
Because of Pancakes cunning there were now only four participants left, Pancake of course, Susie Mcdougal, Smart Henries dog, and Smelly Tom.

-------To be continued---------

Sorry for any poor writing in previous posts. Many are created in the wee hours of the morning.

Cornbread?

This last week I have had a wonderful experience. I've been a building supervisor for education week at BYU. At the beginning of the week I was a little nervous about all the responsibility that I would be facing. But one day away from the end, everything has been magical. I use the word magical because it seems to be a teenager kind of word. The building I've been supervising is the Smith Field House. All the classes in there are youth classes. Ages 14-18. Needless to say there is a lot of awkwardness and flirting. But there is a magical quality that lingers.

Tonight as part of my responsibilities as a building supervisor I had the opportunity to chaperon the Youth dance. At first I was at the gate making sure people had passes. After a little while I was allowed into the dance. (I don't know what they were thinking letting me in, but I didn't dance, I controlled myself). Here are a list of things I had to inforce:
1. NO moshing. (jumping up and down was okay, but they weren't allowed to run into each other)
2. Ties had to be tied, shirts had to be tucked in, and shoes had to be worn. Oddly enough I spent a lot of time asking young men to tie their ties and tuck in their shirts.
3. I was an inforcer when it came to couples dancing too close together. When I witnessed episodes of dancing too close I would walk up, tap them on the shoulder and tell them they had to spread apart and dance like so, I would then precede to lift my left hand to eye level and my right hand to waist level. (A little cheesy, but they got the picture).
4. No standing on benches. For some reason people enjoyed dancing on top of the benches.
5. No kissing. Luckily I didn't deal with any kissers.

While the youth danced, my job was to patrol the perimeters and the dance floor checking for the above mentioned taboos. That was when it got really interesting. Numerous girls flirted with me, (my favorite was when a young lady told me she liked my hair). I also had a bundle of girls ask me to dance. Seeing as I was working and about 6 years older then some of them I apolegetically declined.

All in all it was a good dance. But it sure was hard not to bust a move.

Ode to Nutella

This was a poem written by Kpup and myself.

Ode to Nutella

Creamy brown, sufficient to turn my frown upside down.
Thou art a divine creation, not subject to my malignation.
Oh how my addiction howls for consumption of your quintessence.
Oh nutella
Oh nutella
I need you nutella
When your jar is empty, my upside down frown turns back around.
Without Your sugars my jowls recede, leaving me quite healthy.
I come to indulge my palatial desires, upon thy Heavenly substance.
I peak in the cupboard hoping to find thee, but thou art gone! On the counter I search, on the floor, in the fridge, but you have evaded me. Eventually I find thee, Open and scrapped bare next to a pair of dirty underwear, in the garbage.
Nutella!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Gnome

The following poem was inspired by William Blake's poem called, "The Lamb".

The Gnome
Little gnome who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life and bid thee feed,
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Tweedy clothing neon bright;
Gave thee such a scruffy voice,
Making all the vales rejoice!
Little gnome who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Little gnome I'll tell thee,
Little gnome I'll tell thee!
It was not thy parents who made thee
Indeed it was a factory in Malaysia that made thee.
They are cheap and super efficient
I a human and thou a gnome,
We are not called by the same name,
Little gnome god bless thee
Little gnome god bless thee.

It Has Been Figured Out!

What inspires us to create? The other day I was inspired by a commercial for bottled water. The first time I saw the commercial it was absurd. The next time it became interesting. The third time it was inspiring. After watching the commercial over and over again, I decided to create my interpretation of the commercial.
These are a few words that represent my project and the commercial I saw:
Freedom
Conform
Bizarre
Conventional
Harmony
Estranged

Lost

1. To be unsuccessful in retaining possession of; mislay:
2. 1. To be deprived of (something one has had):
   2. To be left alone or desolate because of the death of:
   3. To be unable to keep alive:
   4. To let (oneself) become unable to find the way.
   5. To remove (oneself), as from everyday reality into a fantasy world.
   6. To elude or outdistance:
   7. To be outdistanced by:

Blood Brothers

This was one of the best nights I've had in a long time. Often I leave gatherings with a big hole in my chest. Something always seemed to be missing. Tonight I left Sunday Scribble feeling pretty darn good. Over the last few years I have gotten to know some guys pretty well. I feel like they are my brothers. Tonight my actual brother joined us in some games. It was fantastic. All my life Kpup has been there for me. My last few years of high school a wedge seemed to be driven between us. We still got along alright, but we didn't seem to be as close. Since last spring I feel like I have been pulling that wedge out. Kpup and I seem to be getting closer again. Even though our relationship was improving it still seemed to miss something. I've realized tonight that it was my social life. It seems so empty without him. Tonight was great. My brothers were united and it was a blast. At one point Kpup and I both became the Mafia. We killed everyone else. I can truly say it was thoroughly delightful. A piece of that hole that was filled tonight. I'll miss him when he is gone.

A Mischievous Tortoise

A little bit of background: My grandpa has been told by the doctor that he can't/shouldn't drive. His muscles are slowly deteriorating and he is less capable of moving his foot from one petal to the next. One time his foot got stuck on the gas and he hit a post in a parking lot. My siblings and I don't ride with him when he drives. One of the last times I did ride with him, he sped up for every red light, then slammed on the brakes. That was a few years ago before the doctor told him to stop driving.

On this lovely afternoon my cousin and I found ourselves sitting in the back of my grandparents vehicle. The sun was beating down, and it was hot! Grandpa, who was sitting in the passenger seat, slowly stood up. Using the car as support he looked at the front door, checking for grandma. Then he looked back at us and smiled. Again he peaked over the top of the car checking for grandma. She was nowhere in sight. Moving as fast as he could and looking like an old tortoise, he made his way around the car. As he got to the driver side door he checked for grandma again. She still was nowhere to be seen. He opened the door and sat down in the driver's seat and started the car. Why he even had keys to grandma's car I don't know, but he did and they worked. I looked over at my cousin and closed my door. Grandpa closed his door too. Shortly after my grandpa closed the door he put the car into reverse and started backing up. My cousin decided to close his door too. When we reached the end of the drive way grandpa stopped the car. Then he put it in drive. I looked over at my cousin and shrugged my shoulders. Then I put on my seat belt. Very slowly we inched forward, but instead of returning to the previous spot, grandpa turned the steering wheel. We were headed out onto the grass of their front yard. My cousin started snickering. I felt like snickering too, but I could just picture the car smashing into one of their many trees. As we drove into the yard grandma came out the front door.
"Al what are you doing?" she shrieked.
"Hearing Aids," he yelled back.
"What are you doing? You aren't insured," she yelled.
"I need my hearing aids," he yelled.
"That's convenient," grandma said under her breadth. "What are you doing on the lawn?" she asked.
"Oh, I was just giving the boys some shade. They looked hot," he replied.
I couldn't take it any longer. Both my cousin and I started laughing. Luckily grandpa couldn't hear us. He didn't have his hearing aids. Grandma was too worried about grandpa in the drivers seat to notice.

whoosh!

To my friends, associates, family, and the odd person who happens upon my blog:

I ate the Easter Bunny.
My Sandwich ate me.
I climbed to the top of the world but didn't yell.
Yard work fulfilled my desires.
Yes meant, I hate you.
No meant, I hate you more.
Anger turned to fear.
Fear turned to a mirror.
My soul went on a break from my body.
It became a super-tramp, and a mountain man.
My body got stuck in Provo.
Inside I'm so twisted, it is amazing that I survive.
I restrain 90% of my thoughts.
Telepathy controlled my mind.
When I slept, I flew.
Dark corridors gave me comfort.
The edge called my name.
The sun tore through my brain.
Leaving me in a puddle of rain.
The edge called my name.
I tried to refrain.
Sometimes I'm 100% insane.
I danced with a wolf.
He tore out my throat.
Like I was a billy goat.
My freedom shrank, and it stank.
I need to break free.
Free like a flying tree.

A Magical Malady

It wasn't the largest track or the prettiest. In fact it was quite ordinary for a slick track. Even with it's imperfections, at that moment, for me, it was perfect. A slight breeze ruffled my hair as I climbed into the cockpit of my go-cart.
I leaned over my left shoulder I addressed my competition, " K-bear, you don't stand a chance. I'm going to wipe you all over the track".
He replied, "Z diddy, the only thing that is going to be wiped is your corpse after I smash you".
I laughed and strapped my safety harness across my chest. The official began speaking. First I zoned out the official, then the crowd, then my opponent. This was my moment, the only thing that mattered was my own performance. My lungs paused and my heart lurched to a stop. Time stood still. Then the light turned green. My foot hit the gas and I sped around the track. Somehow K-bear got ahead and claimed the inside. I swerved in behind him, using his cart to draft. Around and around we went. A bump here, a bump there, but I couldn't weasel my way by. Then it appeared. K-bear swerved out just far enough. I sped forward. Realizing his mistake he tried to cut me off. I swerved into his cart, sending him into the wall.
Swerving around the carnage, I laughed aloud, "Serves you right. You can't touch this!"
Knowing the race was over I began to coast around the track. It wasn't nearly as much fun alone. As K-bear caught up I let him pass. Then we began to swerve back and forth. The wind was flowing through my hair, my brother was driving next to me, and we both were having a blast. The only thing that could improve the moment was a U-turn. So without further adieu I whipped around and drove in the opposite direction. As K-bear came around again, I whipped out another U-turn and pulled up behind him. What started as a hard-core race, finished as a hard-core laugh.

The Curse of the Purple Pirate

"Yargh! Matey, pass me some rum!" roared the Blue Pirate.
"Oi, if you call me matey again I'll run you through with me saber and then I'll feed you to the fishes!" the Yellow Pirate threatened.
"Would you both please be quite! I'm trying to decide which island I want to visit next." the Purple Pirate pleaded.
Everyone of the pirates, surrounding the small wooden table, started to laugh.
"Shhh, shh," said the yellow pirate menacingly. "The Purple Pirate needs silence to make a move".
The room filled with laughter again.
"Aye, mateys, hold your laughter, the purple pirate is going purple in the face," said the Blue Pirate.
With that the Yellow Pirate jumped to his feet pulling out his saber.
"I warned ye, now I'm goin to eat your gizzard for brekkie," he roared at the Blue Pirate.
As they ran around the room trying to kill each other, the Green Pirate stuck out his foot and tripped the Yellow Pirate. Again the room filled with laughter. During the commotion the Red Pirate slipped the Purple Pirates treasure into his own pile.
"Hey, who took my gold?" the Purple Pirate asked.
"Nobody took your gold, you just lost it," the Green Pirate scoffed.
Contorting his face in anger the Purple Pirate yelled, "I'm already losing. My ship is a mess and I don't have a chance of winning. Would you all please stop picking on me!"
Yet again the room filled with laughter.

A Monster Mayhem

"What's up Joe?" said the three year old boy as we drove up.
"Not a lot, is your daddy home?" Joe replied, as he got out of the truck. Leaving Kaleb sitting luxuriously in the front seat while I was crammed in the back seat. Back seat might be a little too nice. It really was half the size of of small, very small, bath tub with a few seat belts. The only way someone my size could fit was by laying horizontal across the seats.
"I'll only be a minute or two," Joe told Kaleb and I. Knowing that Joe's minutes tended to be a little bit longer than 60 seconds I let out a moan.
"What was that?" asked the little boy now only fifteen feet from our small Toyota truck.
"Oh it is my monster," Kaleb responded.
"A monster?" the boy repeated incredulously as he tried to peer through the tinted glass.
"Yep I caught him the other day," Kaleb continued.
"How did you catch him?" the boy asked.
" I caught him in a bush. First I threw out some Haggis. Do you know what Haggis is?" Kaleb asked.
"No," replied the boy.
"It is something that people like to eat in Scotland. Haggis is sheep guts," Kaleb said.
"Where do you get sheep guts?" the boy asked.
"From a dead sheep," Kaleb answered.
Looking quizzical the boy asked, "Why would you want sheep guts?"
"To catch a monster named Zaccis,"Kaleb responded.
"Is that your monsters name?" asked the boy
"Yep," Kaleb said.
"The monster you caught in a bush?" asked the boy.
"Yep," Kaleb responded.
"Is that his foot next to your head," the boy asked.
"Yep," Kaleb replied as he smacked my foot.
"What does your monster like to eat?" asked the boy.
Slightly widening his eyes, Kaleb responded, "little boys wearing blue shorts, gray tee-shirts and with green eyes".
"And haggis?" asked the boy.
"Yep," Kaleb said.
"My eyes are green," said the boy.
"And your shorts are blue, you better be careful. My Zaccis might eat you," Kaleb said.
"Why?" asked the boy.
"Because he's hungry" Kaleb replied.
I decided it was time to add in another moan, "GREEEEaAAAAAAAOOOOOn".
"Can I see him?"the boy asked.
"He sounds hungry," Kaleb warned.
"I'm not scared," the boy bravely responded as he thrust out his chest to show his courage.
Kaleb helped the little boy climb into the truck.
"That isn't a monster!" the boy said. "That is a human".
"No it's a monster, and be careful you don't get too close he'll eat you!" Kaleb warned.
Like most little boys at age of three he ignored Kaleb and poked my foot.
I roared, "AGARAAAAAA" and ate the little boy.

Immortal experiences

I've been changed. First of all I usually try not to blog like this. But I've been changed. I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting for someone to attack my bag strap and slide it off. Every time I get a flat tire I see a joyful beautiful beaming face. The face just sits there waiting for my response. Every time I hear the name of Obama I think of a violin. I can hear her teacher voice telling me that my project is neat. Anything purple reminds me of J. Shortly after I'm reminded of the square. I see ice cream cones and I think of punting along to his sarcastic remarks. My stomach makes a sound and I think of Dr. J aka "The Grumbler" and some French word that means talk. Saying the name Dr. J or "The Grumbler reminds me of Angels fighting Angels, which in turn reminds me of bad rapping. Green moss makes me want to fly. Pigeons remind me of pigeons. Public transport reminds me of PVC pipes. Little creature noises make me cringe and smile at the same time. "Do you need help? Should I get your mom to take you to the hospital?" When I eat dinner I'm left feeling empty as I think about banana leaves. Sleep reminds me of transition. I can't listen to Queen without dancing. Hippos are now my second favorite animal( only in a very rare, hard to find form). I hear something click and I think of black and white and purple. The purple in turn leads me to J. which leads me to Square which leads to futbol. Which leads to many many things. It is all a big circly tight knot thingy inside my head. I've been changed.

Pause

My crystal glass shattered, leaving me bare.
My eyes were peeled like an orange. Now I care.
The blanket of fear that encircled me is decaying. Now I care.
I'm part of your memories. Now I care.
I'm beginning to fight for my dreams. Now I care.
I embrace my pain. Now I care.
I am not alone. Now I care.
I took the time to discover myself. Now I care.

Resume

Zachary Ostraff

OBJECTIVE:
I would like to obtain a part-time doing work of some sort. Preferably work that is exciting and fun. And it pays well.

QUALIFICATIONS:
I coached a Jr. High lacrosse team. I took a volleyball class at BYU. I have understood and can play most sports. I’m took a soccer class at BYU. I love having fun. Sometimes I can work hard. My mind likes to create. (I think)

EDUCATION:
I Graduated from Provo High with Honors in 2006.
I’m currently going to college.

ACHIEVMENTS:
I am an Eagle Scout. In High School I was awarded the Kiwanis Club Youth Leadership Award. I was the captain of my lacrosse team. I also helped start Timpview’s lacrosse team. My Cross-Country team won the 4A state title. I took 9th in the 300 Hurdles at the state track meet.

EMPLOYMENT:
Provo Parks and Recreation/soccer official, March 2008-May 2008
All The Great Rooms/furniture assembly and delivery, June 2006-May 2007
A+ Window Cleaners/window cleaner, July 2007-August 2007
BYU Event Staff/usherer, September 2007-December 2007:

REFERENCES:
1. Brian Wilcox, Cinematographer:
2. Joseph Parry, BYU Professor:
3. Joshua Campbell, Ex-Scout leader

Why

This is for those of you that had the unlucky pleasure of viewing the post before this one. The previous post was lacking the quality I prefer for my blog. So I tried to delete it. Unfortunately I couldn't figure out how to delete the post. Instead I took away the text. Instead of acknowledging my lack of blogging skills I'm going to tell you what an empty post really means.


A blank post can mean so many things. It can be hopes and dreams, or it could be personal fears. You might look at a post empty of text and see a pointless post. I look at it and see a beautiful creation. A creation that allows the reader (or lack of) to wonder why it is empty. It forces their brain to think a little bit. If it didn't do that for you. Look a little closer.

Almost Human

There is something innately appealing about mannequins. There semi-human forms, I say semi because many consist of only a torso, or a leg, sometimes just a head, nevertheless they are extremely thought provoking. I look at their soulless/lifeless forms and perceive a sense of longing. They just want to be noticed. I think I could collect mannequins for the rest of my life and never be bored. When I get home I think I will start collecting them. Maybe I should start a collection of mannequins from all over the world. Then I could have an art show entitled, Mannequin Heaven. I think I can help my mannequin friends be noticed. So if you know of a lonely mannequin, save them from their doom and give them to me. I'll find a friend for them.

Pushing Insanity

I've known for some time now that I need sport. Without it my body becomes sick and my mind weak. I need to push myself to the limits. I need to experience the pain and agony involved. I need to live on the edge of physical insanity. Recently I've realized this doesn't apply only to sport. I need to live on the edge of insanity in all aspects of my life. I need to push my boundaries and push some more. I won't be content with myself unless I push. I need to become the best possible person. Now I just need to find the guts to push. Where do I find them?

Flaming Knives

In preparation for my summer job I've taught myself how to juggle. It only took a day to figure out the basics. I'm still not very good, but I'm well on my way to becoming a Carni. Maybe my juggling will earn me a few tips. Or maybe someone at the carnival will teach me to juggle knives, or flaming sticks. Then I can go on the road as a street performer. I'll call out to the crowded streets "Come one, come all, today you will witness an event rarely attempted by professionals. I warn you now, I am no professional. So step up and pay a few pennies to a man willing to juggle flaming knives!" It will be fantastic. I better start collecting knives and lighters.

Unreachable

Can't you leave me to walk the lonely road?
Alone I wish to walk,
battling my internal conflict.
I pray for strength,
but I'm destined to break.
Your sympathy and words of care leave me stripped bare.
You seem so sincere, but I don't care!
My heart is torn,
why do you persist?

You joke, we tease, but it is insufficient for me.
would you please refrain?
I'm left wanting a change.
Melancholy ensues, blocking my view.
Could you please move?
You laugh and tease, leaving me in a dream.
Please Please refrain.
Stop laughing, stop smiling.
Can't you see this is hurting me?

Solitude embrace me.
I'll accept thee.
The tide rises, but I cannot fly!
Solitude embrace me.

Stone steps,
repetition, repetition, repetition
stones steps, clicking twists.
Musky air, wonderful sewage smells.

An old building in a new city,
waiting for change to compel its walls to move.
Hidden anguish gushes from it's seems.
"Please don't forget me!"
People used to remember.
Now if they notice, they say "Why should such an old building remain? Why don't they tear down those broken walls? Why don't they rid the world of a useless building?"
Dirt smeared bricks. Fallen from ages of decay. Lying as a memento of a forgotten age. Remembrance is but a dream. A dream slipping through a rushing stream.

A Disasterous Start

This morning I claimed my usual allotment of milk. (about 1 litre here in England). At home I usually pace my milk intake throughout the day. But because of my circumstances I'm forced to consume as much as possible at brekkie. So this morning I claimed my milk. I began eating my cereal when a girl sat across from me. (We'll call her thief #1). So theif #1 sits down across from me and grabs my litre. She then proceeds to pour some of MY milk on Her cereal. I was shocked! Luckily I had enough grace to let her enjoy her cereal. After she finished pouring My milk, I grabbed it from the middle of the table. This time I kept one hand on My milk while I finished my brekkie. Because of the increasing crowd I decided to guzzel my milk in a corner. As I got up another girl (thief # 2) asked me if I'd pour her some of My milk. I was appalled. Unfortunately I was too nice. Yet again I saw more of my litre flow away. Immediately after I poured her a glass I downed what was left of My milk. Needless to say, I've been craving milk all day.

melting on a pan, but frozen like a block of spam.
Half is whole,

When a choice is placed before you, which do you take? Just because an individual is a friend does not mean they can break the rules. But they are a friend and deserve loyalty. When is an individual worthy of a second chance?

A rainy day is awfully dry.

Respect: to show regard or consideration for;
Through out life we will have opportunities to practice respect

Clarification of the Relational Decimal System

According to my sources a few of you are confused about the system and its purpose. The Relational Decimal System was created for one reason only. This system should be used only for a tally of girlfriends/boyfriends. It should not be used as an indicator of whom you are dating. Just because somebody winks back doesn't mean you are dating. In other words, the system has no connection to individuals, instead its soul focus is the overall amount of girlfriends/boyfriends. Hopefully that cleared up many of your concerns. If you need more information feel free to leave a comment.

ps. Seeing as I created the Relational Decimal System I and I alone have the authority to add or subtract categories from the system.

Bestowal of the Relational Decimal System

Recently I've been stuck in a quandary. In the last few weeks I have been asked how many girlfriends I have had throughout my life. The quandary comes from people not understanding my response. For example, at one point I have said 1.5 girlfriends. I say this because I've created a system that figures out precisely how many girlfriends/boyfriends an individual has had or currently has.

If there is physical contact such as hand holding, kissing etc. more than once without commitment, 0.5
If you have physical contact with emotional and verbal understandings, 1.0.
If there is an excess of over two hundred jokes about you hooking up, 0.25.
If they hold your hand once it depends on the type of hold*
-caress, 0.03
-interlocked, 0.02
-cupped, 0.01
If it is one kiss it depends on the type of kiss and how well you know the person.
-close friend make out session, 0.35
-close friend passionate kiss, 0.25
-close friend peck, 0.14
-acquaintance make out session, 0.20
-acquaintance passionate kiss, 0.16
-acquaintance peck, 0.10
-unknown victim make out session, 0.10
-unknown victim passionate kiss, 0.15
-unknown victim peck, 0.05
If you wink it depends on the individuals response*
-if they wink back, 0.01
-if they wink back and lick their lips, 0.02
- if they purr back, 0.10
If you put your arm around an individual it depends on their response*
-if they shudder and elbow you in the gut, -0.05
-if they tell you no, 0.0
-if they let you rest it on them, 0.05

In the future I will continue to answer the above stated question using my system. I'd appreciate it if people would know what I mean when I say 1.5 etc. Thank you and have a good day.

*(these actions could count as relational jokes which corresponds and counts toward a girlfriend/boyfriend)

Treasure Hunting

Have you ever wanted to become a treasure hunter? I have. The very first step to becoming a treasure hunter is figuring out what kind of treasure hunter to become.

There are the metal detector hunters. They walk around parks, playgrounds, and beaches decked out in their gear. Often times they are mistaken for a crazy person. If you get caught hovering above something that sets off that irritating beeping sound, you better watch out. My advice to anyone who interacts with one of these hunters is to not stand in their way. For some reason they don't like it when you follow them around and dig up the treasure they locate.

There are the archeological treasure hunters. These guys aren't in it for the money as much as the fame. They want to be credited with finding lost civilizations. I'm not sure why anyone would want the fame from that. If they are really lucky their name might be written in a book, but that is about the extent of their fame.

There are the Indiana Jones treasure hunters. Very few of these people exist. Many people dream of travelling around the world finding items that could have a profound impact on mankind (like a precious ring from Lord of the Rings or the Holy Grail). The biggest problem with these treasure hunters is the life expectancy. Unfortunately not very many of these treasure hunters are as humble as Indiana.

Some of my favorite treasure hunters are Pirates. Riding the high seas capturing vessels of importance and robbing them blind. Oh how my heart yearns for a pirate adventure. But like Indiana Jones hunters, Pirates have a very low life expectancy. It has something to do with international law and being hung. Not a very pleasant end if you ask me.

Recently I had a few friends point out this last category of treasure hunter. These are the people that treasure experience. These experiences come from relationships with other people. In the last couple of years I've become part of a select group of people. They are known by many names. A few of which are, but not limited too: Provo Pirates, Provo runners, weirdos, brothers, us, or as I usually call them; my friends. They have unlocked an abundance of treasure chests for me. Many people are confused by our antics. Every once in a while we all dress up like Pirates because we can. I can think of four of them that currently are devoting their lives to God for the next two years of their lives. I can think of several others that have already done that. We definitely aren't the typical young men. But it has been through my friendship with these guys that I've realized the truth about treasure. The greatest treasure I have ever found is the bond I share with them. Hopefully this type of treasure hunter is the one you choose to become. All the other treasure in the world can and probably will be stolen (hopefully by me), but nobody can ever take away the experiences you have with friends and family throughout life. I dare to say that these treasures are the only treasures truly worth the effort it takes to find them.

Hopefully I have enlightened you on the subject of treasure hunters. If I didn't address your preferred type of treasure hunter please leave a comment informing me of their attributes and downfalls.

Cheers.

The unachievable

So I achieved something that nobody I know has ever achieved before. I've been kicked off of Facebook for adding too many friends in one day. It is pretty ironic and hilarious. I decided I needed to look up the terms of use on Facebook. The only reason I could find that I may have had my account terminated is this:
you agree not to use the Service or the Site in any unlawful manner or in any other manner that could damage, disable, overburden or impair the Site;

Seeing as I didn't use Facebook for anything illegal I believe they thought I might damage, disable, or overburden the site. I'm free from the chains of Facebook because Facebook decided I was a danger to their site.

My acceptance speech:

First I would like to thank my friends and family. If it wasn't for them I wouldn't be the individual I am today. I would also like to thank all my Facebook friends or potential Facebook friends. If it wasn't for your beaming profiles I would never have been tempted to add so many of you. Last but not least I'd like to thank Facebook. I couldn't have achieved the unachievable If it wasn't for the ridiculousness of your rules and regulations and the whole Facebook system.
Thank you all for your love and support. Rock on World!!!

Addiction

Adieu Adieu, For I am lacking you.
Oh so creamy white!
You're wetting my appetite.

Away I'll steal, for a drop of heavenly dew.
Kai po, they'll cry.
But you're so magnificent to my eye.

Adieu Adieu, They refuse to let me at you.

My Neverland

When most people think of Neverland they think of Peter Pans Neverland.
But every individual has their own Neverland, whether they realize it or not. Neverland is a place of dreaming and imagination. It is a place safe from the increasingly chaotic world.
Peter felt a need for something in his Neverland, something that Wendy had and he didn't. That is why he invited her to come with him to Neverland. He enticed her with clever words; words that made Wendy feel a longing that in turn led to her departure from London. But Peter didn't realize the profound affect that Wendy would have on his Neverland.
Wendy was a practical person. She was logically sound and very dependable. In a way she was a practical magician. She understood Peter in ways even he couldn’t comprehend. She changed Peter without Peter ever realizing that he was changing. In the end she left Peter, but she left him changed.
The lost boys were constant companions for Peter. They offered him a sense of belonging. Peter knew that without fail he could depend on the lost boys. They were always ready for an adventure. Each of the lost boys had a special place with Peter. Adventures are not nearly as much fun when you don't have someone to share it with. He never admitted such a thing, but it is obvious he was hurt when they decided to leave with Wendy. “To show that her departure would leave him unmoved, he skipped up and down the room, playing gaily on his heartless pipes”. Each of the lost boys had a responsibility to themselves and their futures. It was Wendy’s influence that let Peter accept the decision made by his boys.
"He skipped about and made funny faces, but when, he stopped it was just as if she were inside him, knocking". Wendy had awoken something in Peter that he couldn’t ignore, even when he tried too. Although Peter wanted to prevent Wendy and the lost boys from leaving him, he knew he couldn't. But by going with Wendy the lost boys were abandoning Peter. Wendy was abandoning Peter. He knew that he had to let them go, but he also knew that his life would never be the same.
My Neverland once was great. Much like Peter Pans Neverland. I had my lost boys (more like pirates than lost boys. Pirates aren't always evil) to join me on my adventures, and I had my Wendy's. There were mermaids and fairies, Indians and cowboys (I realize Pans Neverland didn't have cowboys, but mine does). It was a place of wonder and excitement. Then one day it changed.
My lost boys decided to grow up. They are making the changes in their lives that will lead them to respectable roles in the community. A lot of people have a responsibility to themselves and their futures to leave their Neverland. To leave and grow up. Just like the lost boys had to leave, just like my friends need to leave.
Generally it is assumed that Neverland is a place to hide from responsibility. For some people that is exactly what Neverland entails. But I feel and know that I have a responsibility to find and remain in Neverland. My Neverland is not a place to hide from responsibility. I can't float through life using other people to support me. I know that I need to support myself. I also understand that when I get a family I am responsible for providing for them. But I also know that if I don't find my Neverland and live there, my purpose in life is dead. I have a responsibility to my dreams and imagination. I won't forgo my Neverland. If I do I'll be worthless to the world and myself.
Something inside of me is knocking. So I say goodbye to my lost boys and hope that growing up is an adventure they shall enjoy. Like Peter I'll return to my Neverland, but it will never be the same.

The Adventures of Yonvich and Goulaf (The biggest flower in the history of mankind is visited by the brothers)

"Goulaf this is a big flower," Yonvich declared as he starred into the depths of an enormous flower.
"Yes indeed it is. I can just picture myself bathing in such a large blossom," Goulaf replied as he scrunched his face in imagination.
"Well Goulaf, this has been an adventure. What do we visit next?" Yonvich asked.
Goulaf's eyes twinkled as he said, "Yonvich my brother, we shall travel two and one half hours North to the land of York. I would very much like it if we travelled to the homeland of the brilliant peppermint York".
With that the two brothers turned from the worlds largest flower and marched back the way they had come.

Recognizance

a Dangerous Story greets him
attentively,
Redness Has united, “ fight the English?”
Risked station, small,
speaks improvement.

AND with care, buy that of equality
A seasons blushing torrent,
like God Twisting Water.
Blocking Here The Doors of Dangerous Peasants
never a stream against
the downpours of the English.

I’d rather be the son of that cave.
Salty against the purchase,
Empty from the market.

Yet a Parcel of worship,
Itself Empty of a purchase
does unite me.

A collapse of History salutes carefully.
Are we capable of congratulations?
Aye, my Knickers are in a Grateful bunch.

Malignation

In a crowd,
drowning out the slightest
sound.
I've become a bitter, resentful mound.
Maturing flesh
marinating in a perturbent mess.
Enclosed by customs seen,
but not yet met.
My heart resides
yet does not rise.

Holiday

This week we went on a Holiday. First we went to Scotland. Although there were many memories made and a few lost in Edinburgh I am going to focus on York. After two whole days in Scotland we left by train to stay in York, England.

Because of cheaper prices our train arrived early in the morning. We walked to our hostel and dropped off our bags. Then we walked the twenty or so minutes into the York city center. Kaleb and I found ourselves in the company of a few young women from our program. (Not imposters, dating isn't allowed). We had an enjoyable morning galavanting about with these young women. Then they decided that they wanted to visit a church meeting in the York Minster. (minster means church). Kaleb and opted not to commune with god, instead we went in search of toilets. But not before we made plans to meet up with the women folk at a store. Needless to say we were abandoned. So for the rest of the day Kaleb and I roamed around York with a few things in mind. Firstly we didn't want to get shanked (stabbed by a local and left in the gutter). Secondly find someone or anyone from our group. Thirdly find something to eat. We only succeeded in one of our goals. Luckily we didn't get shanked. And the rest of our adventure will remain unknown because of a few reasons. I hope I wetted your appetite and now I'm leaving you wanting a meat pie.

Good bye.

The Adventures of Yonvich and Goulaf (A tree)

"Ahoy Yonvich," said Goulaf.
"What Goulaf?" Yonvich asked.
"That tree beckons to me,"Goulaf replied pointing to a twisting gnarly tree. "I think I need to climb it".
"Alright let us climb that tree," Yonvich proclaimed.
The brothers ran to the tree. Back in the homeland tree climbing was Goulaf's favorite activity. But never before had he seen such a magnificent, or challenging climb as this tree offered. The first branches were growing about ten feet above the ground. The only way they could climb up was if they used the tree to propell their bodies into the air to grab the lowest branch. As they neared Goulaf picked his footing and lunged. As his foot came in contact with the tree it slipped sending him slamming into the trunk. Mean while Yonvich had circled the tree to start his ascent from the other side. He planted his right foot onto the tree and flung is body upward. Yonvich grabbed the branch with one hand, but it slipped off. He tumbled down landing awkwardly on the roots.
"Goulaf? Are you alive?" asked Yonvich.
"Ehh, I'm alive," groaned Goulaf.
Too stubborn to be beat on the first try, the brothers circled the tree looking for a way up.
"Goulaf, we should climb here," Yonvich said, pointing at a branch hanging slightly lower than the others.
For a moment Goulaf starred at the tree then he replied, " Yes that looks like the spot".
Yonvich ran at the tree and with one leap he propelled himself from the the trunk into the air. His outstretched body flew upwards. He managed to grab the branch with both hands and pull himself upwards. Goulaf followed his brothers example.
"Yes this is a very good climb," Goulaf said as the brothers swung through the branchs.
"Oio, Yonvich get out of the tree," Goulaf yelled. "There are bees".
Both Yonvich and Goulaf jumped from the tree. The smashed to the ground with a thud.
"Goulaf I hate bees," Yonvich said as the brothers continued up the path towards the worlds largest flower. Behind them a swarm of bees buzzed around a magnificent climbing tree.

The Adventures of Yonvich and Goulaf (begin)

Under threatening clouds, stood two brothers, waiting to get into Kew Gardens.

"Yonvich, why are we here?" Goulaf asked.
"Goulaf we are here to see the worlds largest blooming flower," Yonvich replied.
"Why do we want to see a flower?" Goulaf asked.
"So we can say we have seen the worlds largest flower," Yonvich replied.
"Next please," said the teller.
"We would like to see the worlds biggest flower please," Goulaf said.
"14 pounds ," the teller said in response.
Grabbing their tickets they walked through the gate and into the Gardens. In their home country of Bochlovachia nothing was ever as green or beautiful as Kew gardens. There were enormous trees of every kind, growing so high the tops were hidden in the clouds. The grass was so thick you could lay down without leaving an imprint. It was a paradise that the brothers had never experienced before.
"Yonvich! Yonvich! What strange world is this?" Goulaf asked.
There was no response. Goulaf turned to look at his brother. Yonvich stood like a marble statue,with his mouth half open a trail of spittle seeping from the corner of it. Goulaf marched over to his brother and smacked his face.
"Yonvich are you okay?" Goulaf asked.
Rubbing his face Yonvich replied, "I'm fine, the gardens just surprised me".

T0 be continued:

Plaque

Ancient streets
Sore feet
Baaaaaaaaaaa
Waaa wa wa waaaaa
Rustling leaves
Whispering trees
Baaaaaaaaaaa
Waaa wa wa Waaaaa
slow
down
please
Baaaaaaaaaaa
waaa wa wa waaaaa
they have showers,
a very nice set up
Baaaaaaaaaaa
waaa wa wa waaaaa

Music in my mind

Music fills my mind. Over and over it plays, bursting my brain with it's unholy concoctions. I wish it would stop. STOP. STOP. STOP. Images and colors swirl around, awkwardly trying to dance to the murderous melody. It is a disease that rides my mind. It rides my mind all the time.

Huggermugger

I sit here wondering why? Why do I have secrets? Why does anyone have secrets? Why is it so hard to share secrets? Every once in a while one of my secrets will slip out. People stare at me when that happens. Tonight one of my secrets slipped between my lips. She asked if I was joking. I immediately wished I was. I decided my secrets are the part of me that I'm afraid to show to the world. They are the things about me that the world might disapprove of. I just wish it didn't always hurt so much to hold them inside. I wish I could let go and show myself to the world, but I can't. My secrets keep me moving when nothing else will. Secrets are painful but they give me a way out. They allow me to pretend to the world; a world that is unforgiving, a world that doesn't really care about who I am or who I'm trying to be. My lips are locked. I guess that is why.

Hazardous Navigating

My jaunt in London England has begun. I've been here for about five days now. It is pretty amazing how much has already happened. I've picked up a couple of reputations, on of which is getting people lost. Another is not stopping to take pictures. To go along with those I've also heard that I abandon people when we walk. If you ask me it is their fault they aren't keeping up. It is their fault they trusted me to guide them (my navigation skills are great, people just don't appreciate the novelty of being lost). It is their fault that I don't usually have a camera to take pictures of everything touristy. (I've started taking a camera with me so that I can stop and take pictures too, the only difference is the content of my pictures). One thing people can plan on when they go anywhere with me is that I will have an adventure. And that is why I can enjoy myself in London. Life is about adventure, and my life is a constant adventure. Just yesterday I led a friend onto the wrong train. We got stuck at the next stop trying to make it back. After a lifetime of waiting we finally jumped onto another train. I didn't say every adventure was huge. I've had a great time so far. I can hear London calling me right now. It whispers in my ear of adventures waiting to be experienced. For now I'll whisper back, but eventually I'll embrace them again. And when I do I will be thinking of how awful it must be not being lost in London with me.

Cognomen

Sometimes I forget my name. It seems so ordinary. It doesn't feel special. If I ask a stranger on the street who I am, they won't know my name. So why should I care about my name? My name is my link to my ancestors. My last name comes from my fathers family. They were from Russia. My middle name is my mom's father's name. My first name is my own. My name means a lot. Not to a stranger on the street, but to me. Sometimes I forget my name, but that is when I forget who I am. My name is my future, past, and present. It is up to me to uphold my families honor. It is up to me to uphold my own honor.

Transmogrification

The semester has ended. I'm free from school. My job has ended. I'm free from work. Now I'm waiting, knowing that my life is changing. I can feel it pulling on my soul. It speaks softly about my future. I'm waiting nervously for it to come. It feels like I'm about to start a race.

Every muscle in my body tenses. My throat is dry and my tongue is numb. The call has come, I'm mounting my blocks. My thighs quiver, anticipating the shock. I'm waiting for the gun to sound. I know that it is near, but it brings eternal fear. The unknown looks me in the face and tells me that I can't possibly win. But I know that I will have lost if I don't burst from my blocks.

I know that I can't stop. I have to face my life and decide what will become of me. But is scares me to know that I might fail.

Broken!

Well I finally broke my streak. If everything works out I'll have a lunch date for Friday. I think I finally received a yes because of the way I asked. Instead of calling, asking in person, or facebook, I decided to take the time to write a letter. It is amazing how much some people enjoy receiving letters. I'm almost positive that if it wasn't a letter I would have been told no. Encouraged by my unfounded creativity she even replied creatively. It reminds me of high school. I kind of miss the times that my friends and I would try and come up with really creative ways to ask out on dates. Since I've been in college our creativity has floundered. So has my dating. I think from now on I'm going to ask out creatively.

A Real Man

Yesterday I helped out my friend with a bunch of yard work. It was a little strange for me to be so willing to help him, growing up I hated yard work. But I was helping a friend, plus I was going to be able to use a chainsaw. I guess it was mainly for the chainsaw. We went to pick up the chainsaw. The owner was a single lady and the chain was off the saw. Neither of us had used a chainsaw before, so we didn't know how to put the chain on. We asked if we could take it to a hardware store to have someone put it on. She scoffed at us. Then she said, "you don't need to take it in. You can walk up to almost any man in the neighborhood and they'll know how to put it on". We realized then, that neither of us were real men. We had no idea how to put a chain on a chainsaw. Luckily there was a real man living next door to this lady. He generously helped us get the chain on and then demonstrated how to use the saw. Eventually we had both used the saw. Then the chain came off. Deciding I wanted to test my manhood, I put the chain back on myself. It worked. I can use a chainsaw and put a chain onto the saw. So now I can truly say I am a real man.

Finding Freedom

Last Saturday we took a day trip to Sanpete County in the State of Utah. We were on a mission. Clarese had seen a town called Freedom on a map, it was wedged between two other towns called Jerusalem and Wales. We decided we needed to visit Freedom. Freedom just happened to be in Sanpete County. It was quite the adventure. Freedom was so small we drove right by it without noticing. After being lost for some time, we finally stopped for directions at the Burger Bar in Fountain Green. A kind old lady, wearing a Jazz hat, gave us directions. Soon afterwards we found ourselves in Wales. The only thing in Wales was a bunch of houses. There was no city center of any kind. The only indication we were even in Wales was the sign situated 50 yards before the houses. Deciding we had experienced enough of Wales we moved on. We found Freedom next. Surprisingly Freedom was even smaller than Wales. Almost the entire populace of Freedom was found in a Cemetery.The only thing in Freedom was the cemetery and a turkey farm. We stopped, took some pictures and moved on to Jerusalem. True to form, Jerusalem was even smaller. Actually I don't know if you can really call it smaller. The only thing we found in Jerusalem was a dead end. While we were in Freedom we picked up a packet from the cemetery. The packet had the entire history of Freedom. Originally Freedom was called Draper. But when the town wanted a post office the state made them change their name. (There was already a Draper Ut, just south of Salt Lake). So the Draper brothers (the populace of Draper) decided to call their town Freedom. They called it Freedom because they felt free. And they wanted to always be able to do what they wanted. The packet of information turned out to be pretty neat. It had some excellent descriptions of Freedom. At one point they described it as "the garden of Eden". At one point there were almost two hundred residents in Freedom. That was during the polygamy days. After polygamy died out, so did most of the residents. Those that didn't die, moved away. One day I want to find my Freedom. Hopefully it will be my little "garden of Eden".

I know how the earth was created.
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago the earth was a huge jawbreaker. One day God decided that he wanted to eat it. So he stuck it in his mouth and began to suck. He sucked and he sucked, but like all jaw-breakers it changed very slowly. So God just kept sucking. Frustrated by the slow progress he took it from his mouth and glared his wrath upon it. Then a sudden understanding came to him. He realized he was looking at a most precious piece of art. His jawbreaker had transformed into a miraculous, half eaten, masterpiece. "I will name you Terra Firma, for you are exceedingly hard to change," he said. He licked it and stuck it into space. Then he proceeded to create the other planets in our galaxy. But the earth was his first so he saved something special for it. He sent his children to live their mortal lives on the surface of the Terra Firma or Ridiculously hard jawbreaker as I like to call it.

If you want to know how he created the oceans just think about how you change a jawbreaker.

Flying

I dream of flying.
Mostly it is gliding.
This sailing through the air,
leaves me without any care.
I'll swoop and swirl
droop and curl.

Then birds jealous of my jaunt
will ask, "what do you try?"
"I am flying," I will shout. "I am flying without any doubt".
They reply, "eventually you will fall. First you will stall, then you will fall, fall, fall".

Looking down, I see the ground.
My lungs compress.
My stomach rises through my chest.

Alone I'll lie, fallen from the sky,
trying not to cry.
My broken wings lie nearby
encrusted,
encrusted with my alibi.

Classic Skating

Last night I became retro. Well Sort of. I went to Classic Skating. My sister and I are watching a 14 year old boy for some family friends while they are out of the country. Jenny was going to hang with him last night. Therefore I planned on seeing a movie with some friends. After work I called Jenny and she was feeling awful. Not only that, but the boy had dragged her to a school party at classic skating. After debating with myself (it felt like hours, but was only minutes) I called my friends and canceled. Ten minutes later I found myself at the doors of classic skating. They made me pay (there goes my movie money). It didn't take long to find my sister. She was huddled at a table trying to read a book. I told her she could leave, but had to leave the book. She said the book was awful and I really wouldn't want to read it. (Maybe that is why she was feeling sick. Don't you feel sick when you read a terrible book?) Just as she was leaving she informed me that I didn't have to pay if I wasn't skating. With her final words I was left in a throng of Children. I decided I didn't want to waste my money. Grabbing some skates I strapped them on and headed for the floor. Holy Crap, I hadn't gone skating since Jr. High and I was awful. I skidded too and fro, i felt really awkward. Then the people running things decided I was having too much fun. They began to play a game. The object of the game was to fall down when the music stopped. Needless to say, I was pretty good at the falling down. Unfortunately the music usually hadn't stopped. After a little while the game ended and I was back to my adventure of trying to stay standing. Eventually I got the hang of it. I began thinking that I should become a pro. then came the next game. This one they called blackout. Supposedly they turned off all the lights and had everyone skate in the dark. Either being ridiculously brave or horrendously stupid I stayed on the skating floor. As most of the lights went out a few remained on. Their blackout was a fraud. I actually found myself feeling relieved until the lights started flashing. The head honcho had decided skating in the semi-dark wasn't enough. He had turned on the strobe lights. Between my seizures and trying to avoid little kids cutting me off, I think I had fun. Maybe. Anyways after an hour of skating around I decided it was time for me to leave.

It is all about the whakapapa

I have a very patient family.  On the outside they wouldn't seem patient.  Genetically we all have voices that resonate very well, therefore we sound very loud.  It can be a nice thing when you are trying to locate a family member.  If I'm looking for my dad at work and he isn't in his office I listen.  I listen for his voice or his whistling.  If he is in the building I can usually find him.  Anyways my family is very patient.  I feel like they are all waiting for me to actually do something. They don't abandon me the way many other people would.  Productivity is definitely not a large part of my life.  I'd much rather relax than do something strenuous.  For me strenuous activities include but are not limited to: School, work, yard work, driving, cooking, waking up, and occasionally grooming myself.  Yet even with all my faults and my inactivity with life I still have a family.  They encourage me and patiently wait for the day when I'll get up and do something worth while in my life. In the mean time this is what my family does for me.

 Josh and Mary bring home the bacon/Milk (there is nothing like a good gallon of milk). Jenny makes sure I go to class.  Mom makes sure I have a job.  Kaleb gives me friendship and understanding (Lately I've called him my absentee wingman). Ethan gives me 9 year old harassment (in a loving way), I usually return my 9 year old harassment.  Hannah lets me see an outside perspective on my life (every day I see more ways that hannah and I are alike).  Dad saves me from my financial mishaps.  Of course they all encourage and support me.  Hopefully I can return the favor.  I love my family and couldn't live without them.

Gradually I find myself changing my attitude towards life (very slowly).  I currently have a job I enjoy, I'm still in school, I've chosen a major, and with my families patient help I'm becoming a better person.  

To close my ode to this wonderful family I would like to say "It is all about the whakapapa".

Finding myself

Today I went to a friends missionary farewell. He talked a lot. It was really nice. At one point he was talking about being yourself without letting other people tell you what you are. I took a look around and saw some of my closest friends. All of us are very different. The beautiful thing is we look different, we act different, we are each individually different. Yet even as weird as any of them can be, I know that they are my friends. I value each one for different reasons. It is the differences that make it a pleasure to have friends. I'm glad I can say that I have a group of friends that don't pretend to be something other than themselves. And I'm glad that they don't try to make me into something that isn't me. At the farewell I was able to look around and see that I am who I want to be and I still have friends.