Why Do They Even Make These?

Ice Tea Jar w/Spigot

Why do they even make these things? All they do is leak! Just who do they think they're kidding?

And, why do women keep buying them? Wishful thinking?

Big, Small, or Somewhere In Between - #5, Kiss

or The Greatest Moments In My Life

I like to spend time recollecting. That's mostly a euphemism for zoning out, but sometimes good memories come back.

Really, I spend a lot of that time thinking about some of the great times I've had. There have been some really good ones, some great ones, and some nice little moments.

Kiss

Before you continue reading, if you're a guy (or a mean girl) who's going to make fun of me for this one, go ahead and click on that little red x in the upper right corner of the window and go away!

More romance. Short and sweet, and very memorable to me. But it might come across as strange. I think it makes me look like a wuss. Like I might like chick flicks and romance and all that crap. But, I do. If you don't, then you probably already got bored with this guy's blog.

Before I start, I bring your attention to "way back when" sometime, when I wrote about some of my more memorable moments in life (Say Anything" Moments and Great Moments in Dating). I can't believe the one coming up didn't make it to my GMiD. Of all my "moments," it brings out the most intense emotion. It's hard to put into words, but I'm going to try.

then I did the simplest thing in the world.
I leaned down... and kissed him.
And the world cracked open.

-Agnes de Mille, b. 1905-

Three Roommates. Two of Which are Jealous Bastards (Thankfully)

In college, I roomed with three other guys in a two bedroom apartment. Two of these guys were part of the family/friends from Episode #2, Wedding.

At this point, it's the end of the girl's two weeks in town. She was going back to New Mexico the next day. Roland was on cloud nine and very sad.

We had spent a lot of time together. Disneyland was our first date. Her friends told me that I totally blew it by planning to take her there, but afterward she told me it was bold. Bold worked for me, I guess. It was a great, great day.

So, after two weeks of mostly me, her friends were feeling slighted. So, while I got lots of dates and practically that whole last day to myself, it was a little awkward to say our goodbyes at my own apartment and see her leave with one of my roomies and a couple of our other friends. But, there they went.

Roland is sad. Roland goes to bed.

I reiterate. I was sad. I went to bed.

My actual room mate (the one who shared my room and was not previously mentioned) worked late and always came in quietly. I remember the light from the doorway, just like always, and I fell back asleep, just like always.

Only it wasn't my roommate.

"Wake up a little," I heard whispered. It was pitch black.

I could feel her caressing my face as she whispered for me to wake up again.

She gently lay down on the bed next to me, sighing and nestling in. "I only have a minute. I told them I'd be right back down."

"What are you..." She shushed me with her finger.

"I left my jacket up here," she told me.

I could smell her hair. She turned to face me and then I could feel her kissing me so deeply and so tenderly. I found that she was laying on top of me, with her arms surrounding my head on the pillow. She sighed so deeply when she kissed me and I felt so enveloped by her. It was so dark and deep and everything felt complete or whole or full. That kiss. The touch. Her smell. Each was wonderful, but it adds up to so much more. It was such a short time, but it sometimes feels like it's still happening today.

Too soon, she stood up. I could sense her reaching down way under my bed and pull something out. Her jacket.

"Bye," she whispered as she stood to leave. I could see her red-brown hair in the light, as she opened the door. She had a quirky little smile on those lips.

"Hey!" I stopped her. "Kiss goodbye?"

She gave me a a cocky little huff and smiled as the corners. "Now, what did I just do?"

"You said bye..."

And, my God, she came back!

Mmmm... Another smile, another kiss, and one more of those sighs...

Ear To Hair Ratio (E:H)

There's really no doubt about it. I have big ears. I can only pray that those stories about ears growing forever aren't true...

Over the years, I've made piece with my ears. I've come along way from getting in fights because someone called me "Dumbo."





"Lots of people with big ears are famous." -- Timothy





But, I'll admit that I've become self-conscious about them, once again. It's because now I have less hair AND I want a date. The less hair, the more ears stand out. Do I really think that my ears will stop a girl from liking me? No. But, I still hate my ears.

I'm currently not bald, but I certainly have less hair up front than I'd like. I don't want to be one of those guys that people think is kidding himself, you know? If my ears were small, I might have shaved my head by now.

A few months back, I cut my hair VERY short. Go to work, and one of my coworkers makes a crack about my huge sails in front of everyone. Asswipe. I don't think he even thought it would hurt. But, a couple of days later he was kissing my ass, so someone must have clued him in.

So, while I wish my ears were smaller and I wish I had more hair, you play the cards you're dealt, right. Which way to go? Do I increase my E:H ratio or reduce it? Tough call.

I guess when it becomes "critical" I'll already know what to do. I can't be kidding myself about these ears. I can be about the hair. Lose the hair and flaunt the ears? Which peacock gets the babes anyway, right?

My saving grace was a realization that I only remembered my ears seeming smaller. Turns out that they've always looked immense. Check out the 1990 Roland.



Same ears, more hair. I don't think the ratio was doing much for me.




I don't think the girls were lining up because of the ears, but I did okay.

Saturday Beach Ramble

You'd think that the Sand Challenge AFTER the refeed would be good, but no. I felt a little queesy at one point. I recovered, though. Kicked a little ass, but not as much as the last time.

30 Minute Beach Cleanup was afterward. Justin (the boot camp leader) is behind that, too. The were tons of people. Picked up a lot of trash. I won nothing in the raffle.

Somewhere there are pictures of me with Miss Long Beach.

I told some girl, who's the local leader of a running group, that I'd show up for a 5 mile run, 6:30pm Monday. That won't go well. But, I have to run sometime, right. 10Ks don't train themselves...

The sun's out for a while, so I'm camped out on the beach. Veggin' out for a bit. But I am getting hungry. I don't care how healthy they say their food is, Wild Oats brought out a whole table of 'healthy foods' that I had to pass on. I'll let the other 30 Minute Cleanup people eat that crap (I did have an apple and trail mix with no added sweeteners, though. 30 minutes later, it's like I had nothing...)

If you haven't listened to the latest Fitcast, do so. Not that strength, size, and brains are mutually exclusive, but Dave Tate is a smart guy. I'd never heard him talk before. Common sense and funny, too. Everyone knows Berardi's smart, so blah blah blah.

I just caught up on all the fitcasts, and this random mode isn't cutting it for my music mp3s.

This is one good weekend. Started on Friday at around 3:30, with an early start to the weekend with a friend, one of the best workouts in a while, sleep that was solid, now a Saturday that's going great.

Ramble over.






Blogged via Blackberry, where backspacing is more trouble than it's worth. Please forgive any typos.

Refeed!

Two planned meals. I feel so guilty. Sooo good, though.

Spaghetti and meatballs
Apple (huge)
Brownie
Black and white cookie

Kashi Go Lean Crunch
Special K with dried strawberries
Milk
Yogurt
Steak

Bed

Sand Challenge in the morning. Woo hoo! I'm jazzed.

Apologies...

Well, one anyway.

Somehow, my comment moderation got turned on. I'm sure I did it. But, it didn't email me or anything, so the comments just sorta sat there until someone got all huffy that her comment didn't show up. Women...

It was fun to try to find out where the 20 or so comments went, since they were weeks old and the system here doesn't tell you which comment goes with which post.

So, my apologies to you all. It might not happen again.

My Stomach & Mind Conspire Against Me

The other day, my boss needed someone to take a drive to a remote account. I used to cover that area, so I put up my hand. I have fond memories of that area. So, I head on up to take care of business.

I get up there, and notice that the place is a pit. I guess it always has been. As I'm driving around, looking for the address, I notice restaurants, taco stands, and burger joints. They bring back fond memories. I love these places. I used to eat here a lot.

Suddenly, I'm painfully reminded about how my life used to revolve around food. I found such pleasure in eating. Good food, certainly. But, there's something to be said for the "Worlds' [sic] Best Pastrami" or a great burrito served in the same little joint that whips up burgers, teriyaki, and a good gyro. You know the place. There's one around every corner.

So, here I am, 75 miles from home, but now aware that I'm here because of a fond feeling that I wish I could have left behind. Permanently.

I find the address. But, before I head in, it's time to eat. All of these great food choices are calling me, but instead of the gyro that I smell, I grab a Diet Coke in a drive-thru and park in the shade. Instead of the gyro that I would love to eat, I grab a handful of raw veggies and some hard boiled eggs from my cooler.

It's not really that the gyro would be all that much tastier. I love eggs and vegetables. But, somehow there was a feeling of comfort associated with the old foods that is lacking in the new ones. I haven't fully worked it out yet, but I'd like to think I have a new outlook on food. That I no longer turn to food for comfort or stress relief.

Unfortunately, if I'm correct, these good foods will never be able to overpower the feelings associated with the old foods. I can live with that, I guess. Life is full of plenty of other things to be passionate about. Healthier things.

In a strange, almost ironic twist, I still have a passion for cooking great food. It's not the cooking or the eating of the food that does it for me. It's the enjoyment that others get from the food. Particularly when that other is a woman. It's a healthier and more satisfying passion, but when I think on it, I almost feel like a drug pusher. After all, my goal is to stimulate an emotional response in the person for whom I'm cooking. That was my whole issue. Gotta be good and cook healthy food, I suppose...

Shoe Box Boy

There's a guy at my gym who brings his gym shoes in their original box. Every time. Guy loves his shoes...

Naturally Thin? Hah!

Today, somebody gave me crap for being so lucky to be naturally thin.

He thinks I can eat anything I want. Oh, the beauty and ignorance of new friends.

Blogged via Blackberry, where backspacing is more trouble than it's worth. Please forgive any typos.

As Long As It's Black

I remember back when I didn't like coffee at all. I worked graveyard and struggled to stay awake. All around me, people drank coffee like it was water in the desert. I tried. I hated it. I kept drinking it. Bad stuff. Turns out it was just the crappy coffee that we bought at USC. Who knew? Once I got good coffee, things changed. Now, I love coffee.

Coffee, for me, falls into two distinct categories. Gourmet coffee and diner coffee.


Gourmet Coffee

Gourmet coffee is typically associated with places like Starbucks. Only I don't like Starbucks, with the exception of the Americano (espresso and water). Starbucks coffees are roasted too dark and taste burned and/or bitter to me. It's become something of a cliche to say you don't like Starbucks. I don't know what to tell you. I still drink it. I just wish there were more choices.


My favorite coffee house was Diedrich Coffee. Unfortunately, Diedrich closed up shop and sold off to Starbucks. They still sell wholesale, and I see their signs in some of my favorite restaurants. I was sad to lose Diedrich Coffee.





Next comes Peet's Coffee. Peet's has excellent coffee, but the locations aren't all that convenient for me. They never seem very comfortable, either. Small and not relaxing. I'm sure all the other coffee houses have french presses, too. But I only get them at Peet's.

It might be hard to make good espresso at home, but with a french press, your own grinder, and some quality fresh beans, the gourmet coffee experience is pretty easy to have at home.


Diner Coffee

Diner coffee is really nothing special. It's as much about the diner and the little white mug or cup, as anything.

I like sitting in a vinyl booth. I like sitting at the counter. A window seat on a pedestal table can be nice. A brightly lit, shiny surfaced diner, with waitresses who's uniforms probably haven't been updated in 20 years. Weird little aprons with the ticket pocket up front. I like that it's a small, heavy mug that keeps getting topped off. Or, just maybe, this place has a thick ceramic cup that thunks on the saucer more than it clinks. They don't ask if you want more, they just assume that you do. It's your responsibility to stop them when you've had enough.

Although the coffee served in this place is nondescript, it's distinctive in it's own way. It's not strong and not weak. It's never bitter, and through sheer volume, it's always fresh. It's made in a machine that drips coffee out quicker than you can imagine. It puts your home machine to shame and it's capable of making hundreds of pots a day. Forever.

I suppose that because of atmosphere trumping taste, this is the coffee that you just can't do at home. You can get the cups. You'd need the thick mug or heavy cup and saucer (available at a restaurant supply store for an amazingly low price or at Williams & Sonoma or Restoration Hardware for an amazingly high price). But, that's where it stops. No vinyl booth. No plastic covered tent menus. No funny aprons. Then there's the coffee.

You'd think that the coffee isn't that important, so long as it's not that gourmet stuff. We just need joe here, after all. But, for the life of me, I can't find a coffee that measures up to a halfway decent diner's cup. They are all too good or too bad. Too strong or too weak. I've tried, but other than conning a waitress out of a few foil packets for home, there's really no way, it seems, to get the coffee I need for home.

Maybe this is a good thing. After all, the experience is the kicker. Fond memories of something so basic and silly. Sitting alone or with a friend, sipping average coffee in an environment that is virtually the opposite of what most people want from their coffee experience.

Really, if a few friends want to go out for a cup of coffee, where do they head? Joe's Diner? The local Denny's? Or the Starbucks, just down the street?

One day, I will take a road trip. It will off the beaten path, where there might still be a non-chain diner or two. I'll stop here and there, and have breakfast several times a day. I'll drink a lot of coffee.

I'm just not sure how long it would take me to get not very far on this road trip. Once I sit down, that cup will keep getting filled. And, I can drink a lot of coffee.

Coffee Trivia (Cat Poop Coffee?)

While scouring the web for pics for the main coffee blog, I found this little gem on this site.

Cat Poop

Kopi Luak, or "cat shit" coffee, drives the Nipponeese wild. The Luak is a small cat-like creature that eats ripe coffee cherries right off the tree, digests the flesh but poops the beans out whole. Somehow the fermentation undergone in the animal's stomach makes the final cleaned and roasted coffee beans taste really really good. This stuff sells for $100 per pound and is woofed down by the gallon in places like Japan and Sumatra. These guys can quaf cat ka-ka all they like, fricking wierdos.

Yum!

Food Is Fuel. Continue The March

Food is fuel. Continue the march. -- Captain Dale Dye, USMC

I love food!

There are very few things in life that bring me as much simple joy as good food. I love to eat it. I love to cook it. I really love to cook it for other people (I like the attention...).

Of course, I also realize that I love food a little too much. Hence, the fat Roland of five years back. But, it's been a long journey since I was fat. I've changed a lot of bad habits. I eat less food -- I eat better food -- and I exercise more. I'm no longer fat.

Because of my job, I keep a cooler full of food in my car. For two years now, that cooler has called my name. Reminding me that it was filled with tasty food. Just sitting there, behind the passenger seat. Taunting me. I'd often have to force myself to wait until my next meal. Watching the clock, counting down the minutes until 3 hours was up.

One day, at the gym, I was listening to a podcast of Captain Dale Dye. He doesn't talk about food, health, or fitness. He talks about our troops. I don't know how it came up, but the subject of feeding the troops in the field came up. His brief statement, "Food is fuel. Continue the march," struck a cord with me. I actually stopped lifting to write it down.

Over the next day or two, I thought a lot about that simple statement. I'm sure the guys in Iraq enjoy good food when they get it. But, they have to make do with whatever rations they can get when they are on the march, patrol, or whatever. Likely, they know they have the food handy, but just eat when they need it. It's just their fuel.

At that point, I decided to make a few adjustments to my daily food plan. I'd stick with the good foods when I had the time to cook, sit, and eat. But, when I was on the run, I decided that simple fuel was in order.

Enter the SuperShake, a concoction concocted by John Berardi. A homemade meal replacement shake. Unfortunately, the only good ones are the ones hefty enough to eat when bulking or maintaining your weight. When you're trying to lose weight, they are either tiny and unsatisfying or gross.

Re-enter the Velocity Diet shakes. I did The Velocity Diet about a year and a half ago. The shakes aren't all that great. But, they aren't bad. They just are. I remembered my V-Diet experience and what it taught me. I can survive for 28 days with nothing tasty passing my lips.

For about a month, I'd eat breakfast and dinner, but load up the cooler with three V-Diet shakes for my day. It was nice and stress free, having nothing in the cooler to look forward to.

After a while, I decided to try to add some veggies into the shakes. Gross. Back to a quasi-SuperShake. When that didn't pan out, I started eating cut up veggies with my shake. But, what I really wanted was some sort of homemade bar of protein, nuts or seeds, and veggies. It couldn't taste too good, either.

"Soylent Green is people!" I heard the familiar movie line repeated on some late night comedy show one night. That was what I needed. Soylent Green, sans the unusual protein source. I'd made some zucchini bread and zucchini bars before. It wasn't much of a stretch to make some that weren't as tasty.

I started cooking and ended up with this:

Soylent Green Bars

8 scoops Cyto-Sport Pure Whey (Vanilla Bean)
6 large omega-3 eggs
3 packs Splenda (optional)
6 tbsp flax seed, ground
15oz zucchini, cut up (about three medium squash)
2 cups frozen spinach, thawed (use frozen, not fresh. trust me.)

6 servings

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Blend eggs, squash, and spinach until very well pureed. Stir in protein powder, Splenda and flaxseed meal. Mix well.

Spray a flat baking dish (I used a 10x7 inch pan) with cooking spray and pour it in.

Bake for about 35 minutes, until a knife blade comes out pretty clean. The very center may still be a little soft when a knife blade is inserted.

Cut into 12 bars.

2 Soylent Green Bars per serving.

Nutrition (per 2 bar serving): Calories 263, Fat 11g, Carb 7g, Fiber 3.5g, Protein 33g


That's the basic version. I've got some variations (a tasty Yellow and less than tasty Red), too.

A few batches of these gets me through my week with a lot less hassle than three shakes a day. The perfect fuel.

I feel a little funny eating these things. They look weird. I explained this all to a friend at work. He saw me eating one and asked "How's the Soylent Green?" I laughed and told him that that was what I called them. He asked why I didn't just buy protein bars. Three reasons. Most are crappy for you. They are expensive. They taste too good. If they taste good, I'll just want to eat more and more of them.

For the last month, these have been my daily staple. And, you know how we start to appreciate the simple tastes of healthier food, over time? I'm afraid I'm really starting to like these bars. I've already dropped the Splenda from the recipe. The spinach is a recent add. Neither change altered the taste much. These bars are starting to be too good. How will I make them worse than they already should be? If these bars start calling to me, I'm in trouble.

Hope For The Future

It's heard all the time: the world is doomed because our children can't be trusted to lead us into (or in) the future. I'm sure this has been a popular sentiment since the Dawn of Man.

I don't have anything deep and meaningful to say, specifically, on the subject, only to say that I don't agree.

I don't really know that many "kids" other than my own. They're 9 and 10, and it's a little soon to imagine them running anything.

I interact a bit with younger people at some local coffee houses. They might be rowdy in groups, but when they actually talk to me, the same ones aren't bad. The younger gym set is about the same. Not too bad.

Over on the JPFitness forums, I've gotten to know a few of the next generation. I'd count several as friends, even. Three, in particular, have really impressed me.

One is an Eagle Scout, athlete, church goer, excellent student, etc. The guy's so busy that he really has all the room in the world to complain. He doesn't. He talks about how busy he is, then gets it all done. I wish he lived on my street so my son and I could get to know him. He's someone I could point to as a teenager with great character and strength of will. It's hard to imagine him not doing anything he wants to do in life.

Two is simply a genius (or close to it, at least). While anyone can be quick witted with a good fart joke, this girl's mind spins a more sophisticated joke faster than I can head off. And, when you think it's done, it comes around to get you from behind. It's unlikely that a good laugh will keep the world on an even keel, but it can't hurt. What really strikes me is the dedication. Again, she's busy enough that many would give up, but she hasn't. When I talk to her, her character shines right through, plain as day. I don't really know what she wants to do with her life, but she knows what she wants out of life. That's far more important, I think.

Three, I've actually met. He thinks people don't take him seriously because he's a goofball. But, we can see through that. When we met, he walked up to me, offered his hand, and introduced himself. I don't know if he could tell I was nervous to meet new people or if that's just him. Either way, a young man that takes the initiative in those situations will take the initiative in many more. He's worried because he doesn't know exactly what he wants to do. But, what he doesn't see is that he's still doing all the right things. Most people who don't know, just wait and do nothing. Analysis paralysis. I don't see that happening here. Nothing to worry about. I have to mention this guy's character, too. He does the right thing for others, even when it benefits himself less. I'm not a believer in karma, but I do believe that others see you, your character, and your actions, and give back when they can. That's better than karma in my book.

I'm sure these three aren't the only ones with this much going for them. I'm hoping they are like roaches: Where there's one, there's a thousand!

The Face

At the beach, there was an old concrete structure. Whatever it used to be, now it's just a ruin.

Someone had painted green faces on them.

These faces creep my daughter out, but they intrigue me.

Easter Pics

Allie gets her share.













Help for Evan.

















Counting the take.






The beach was where the fun was.

All in all, a great Easter weekend at my sister's. Santa Barbara was beautiful. Despite the gloomy pics, the weather was nice by each afternoon. We got to eat lunches and Easter Dinner outside on the patio, even.

Note

I have laryngitis.

Easter Weekend

Easter

I've got my kids for a long weekend. Four days, then back to work. It's been nice having them around. Next weekend, it'll be three weekends in a row.

Driving up to Santa Barbara tomorrow morning to spend the weekend at my Sister's place. This is my first attempt at actually spending time with my family again.

I even charged up the batteries for the camera so I can attempt a few snapshots. I'm not good with that stuff.


Work

Work has been crazy. It's been hard to keep my head on straight. Everyday, I get pulled in so many different directions. Which customer do I leave in the lurch? Decisions, decisions?


Gym

No workout today. I won't be hitting the gym until Tuesday night, either. I can probably do with the break on the heavier weights. But, I really like to workout.

On Tuesday night, I'm planning to try the 300 workout again. I'll do the whole thing and see what time I end up with. I predict a poor showing. My biggest concern is the floor wipers. The last time I attempted them, I got cramps in my hamstrings when I went left.

I'm trying to stay calm

Deep Breath

It's all good. Nothing bad.

I'm excited to be getting lean. I've been somewhat lean before, but I actually had to buy a new belt. A smaller one. Then, two weeks later, I moved it down a notch.

It's hard not to be excited. Is that a light at the end of the tunnel? Steady progress. Past the points of the past attempts.

This time, I told myself that I wasn't going to give up when I saw a stall in progress. Not flip out and change my plans in frustration. In the past, I'd approach leanness and suddenly nothing happened anymore. No fat loss. No weight loss. So, I turn to gaining muscle for a while, which of course adds some fat back on.

While that did end my frustration on the short term, it does nothing for the long term satisfaction. I'm never lean. Always a bit too flabby with the shirt off.

It's particularly frustrating to see my face get leaner and leaner, my arms show more veins and muscle, while the "loose" area around the waist stayed put. You can't tell with a shirt on, but shirt off, it's another story.

This time, it feels different. Long haul!



Mom

It's very strange. I never really miss my Mother.

For most of my adolescent and adult life, my Step-Mother was my Mom. Only I didn't realize it at the time.

She was quietly supportive and always loving. She was completely accepting of me. I can't pick out ANY moment when I felt less a son that her natural sons. I didn't even live there, but I still got the full son treatment.

I've always called my Step-Brothers my Brothers. I think it's safe to say that my Step-Mom is the reason why. When you're part of the family, you are just family.

The only time I really think about my natural Mother is when I consider my journey away from fatness. She was diabetic since she was 20, and she was meticulous about her diet and always stayed pretty trim. I'm sure it was really hard on her to have a chubby son. I know she tried a lot of things to encourage me to lose weight.

Coincidentally, after she moved away to Montana, I lost the weight. Of course my first time getting fit, it was almost accidental. I played so much racquetball and rode my bikes so much that it was hard to be fat. Of course, since my diet never changed (the loser at racquetball had to buy the burgers and fries), I gained it back once I was injured.

By the time she was dying and I went to visit, I was no longer thin. She died and I lost the weight again. This time, on purpose. Good nutrition and exercise.

So, sometimes, when I see myself in the mirror, I wish that she could see me. I don't think it wouldn't have changed anything. She didn't treat me badly or anything. She loved me a lot. She was just always angry and whacko, and that made it hard to really love her back. Still, I'd like to show off a little. I know she'd be relieved.

I don't know where I'm really going with this. I have no ending.

hungry

very

there's a certain satisfaction in it. it fits with the goal.

find your hunger and feel it. use it to get what you want.

if you're not hungry for it, it's not worth having.

Big, Small, or Somewhere In Between - #4, Fresh Meat

or The Greatest Moments In My Life

I like to spend time recollecting. That's mostly a euphemism for zoning out, but sometimes good memories come back.

Really, I spend a lot of that time thinking about some of the great times I've had. There have been some really good ones, some great ones, and some nice little moments.


Fresh Meat

As the JPFitness Summit approaches, I'm reminded me of my first trip to Arkansas, back in '89 or '90...

My friend and I had been driving all day and we needed to stop and stretch our legs. Maybe get some food and a beer. We pull off at a local little town and head to a little bar/restaurant that looks okay.

We go in and are greeted by a couple of homely women with friendly calls of "Hi boys!" Things like that. I head to the restroom, while my friend goes to a table. When I come out of the bathroom, I notice a small crowd around my friend and head over. It's pretty loud over there, and the look on his face is a cross between laughter and horror. Our eyes meet, which tells the crowd, which is all homely ladies, that I'm back. They turn, and with calls of "Fresh Meat! Fresh Meat!" head my way.

Suddenly, I'm surrounded by a herd of these women, frantically grabbing my crotch and ass, hooting and hollering "Fresh Meat! Fresh Meat!" Screeching, if you will.

Somehow, we get to the door, smiling and laughing our way to safety, back to back, all while we're being pressed, grabbed, and groped. "Fresh Meat! Fresh Meat!"

We break for the truck, but the women stay at the door, calling us back. However temping, we leave, not stopping until we are out of state.

Luckily, my last trip to Arkansas was slightly more pleasant, although equally memorable.