RALLY BEARD

I am embarking apon a journey that is fraut with peril and spooky doom. I am going to forsake my military training and devevate from it's standards. I am going to grow a beard. When I handed in my notice to quit work last monday (leaving me with only 5 more weeks of welding terror) I decided I needed a good luck charm to see me through till the end. I thought about not changing my pants, but burning a hole in them with the hot saw kinda ended that little endevor. So I decided to take a page from some sports greats and am growing a rally beard. Basically I am not going to shave until I quit working. now a week and a half into it I can tell that I am going to look like a special ed. Muscrat. I am not meant to have facial hair as demonstrated by my ridiculous attempt at a mustache. (I was growing in really dark at the corners and working it's way to the middle. except I guess it stalled about half way and decided to give up. I looked like I had a pair of furry quotation marks under each Nostril. Sexy I know, and yes somehow the ladies still manage to control themselves) So I have detoured slightly from the rules and shaved the punctuation marks off my face. so now I am trying to get the space between my side burns and my little beard thingy to fill up. I am trying to get a picture of it in all it's glory to keep an update week by week unitl it goes away, so if you want to see it let me know and I will shoot out a picture as soon as I can take one.

9, 10, Buckle my shoes

When I was a little Jon, so small and tiny, my father taught me a little song that most kids learn during their childhood. The great classic 1,2 Buckle my shoes. Well if you know my father then you know is the one I get my sick and twisted side from. So basically I learned it this way.

1,2 Buckle my shoe
3,4 Buckle my shoe
5,6 Buckle my shoe
7,8 Buckle my shoe
9, 10 BUCKLE MY SHOE,

The worst part about it is that he used to make me perform it for all of his friends. I am glad I was entertaining his friends with my ingorance to the closing of the door, Sticks, the act of laying them straight, or doing it again. Boy did I ever look like an ass at Kidergarten when I tried to join in during that time on the carpet squares. So why would my old man do this to me? Spite? doubtful, I see only 2 possibilities, either he thought it would be fun to mess me up pretty good and make me sound a gerneral idiot, or more likely he just got lazy after verse one and said FUCK IT.

Hey Look it's still Summer

Never has a summer lasted SO long. When I was a wee lad (also scottish apparently) the summers went so fast you barely had time to destroy more than 3 slip and slides. Yeah so slip and slide onto hot pavement, not one of our best ideas. Seriously though when I was younger I never wanted to go back to school. I would have rather been beaten with rabid badgers then see the terror bringing month of September looming up on my calander. But this summer. The summer of the welding and flesh burning, the only summer in the history of all that is Jon that I have wanted to end, Refuses to. I want nothing more to be back at school sleeping till noon and yelling at people, occasionally firing nerf darts at them. (Seriously it is nerf or nothing. There is no option, you will nerf, or you will nothing.) I just want to wake up tomorrow afternoon in my messy room with that college guy funk hanging around, and a cup of milk from a week ago left on my desk. I told you I was making cheese. We needed cheese and that was my solution. Craft singles my ass, just let a glass of 2% hang around for a few weeks and you get a whole brick of the stuff. Sure it might be fuzzy, but that is probably good for you. or not at all. And in closing I have a quote I would like to place hear in honor of drinking. Drinking, all the memories that we will never forget, .... ...or remember.