RyanCoons
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Wish I had done this. They have one for every episode.
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My top 10 Albums of 2009. Check them out if you haven’t heard of them before.
10. The Fray — The Fray
9. Matt & Kim — Grand
8. Matthew good — Vancouver
7. Sherwood — Qu
6. Say Anything — Say Anything
5. Mutemath —Armistice
4. Third Eye Blind — Ursa Major
3. New Found Glory — Not Without a Fight
2. Mos Def — The Ecstatic
1. Thrice — Beggars -
I peed my pants in 9th Grade.
Sort of.
When most people pee themselves, they are either in pre-school or college; and it is generally an involuntary affair. In my case I chose to pee my pants. My Boy Scout troop visited Busch Gardens in Williamsburg on a trip Washington D.C. to learn about our great nation’s history. And when I think forefathers and the Constitution, I immediately think thrill rides and overpriced pizza.
I was in line with my friends for The Big Bad Wolf, one of the more intimidating coasters in the park. We passed the absurd wait time with small talk and the occasional sarcastic comment about the long line said just loud enough so others nearby could hear and look in our direction with an approving smile that said, “You say what everyone is thinking! Keep up the good work!” I had to go to the bathroom before we got in line, but I was the only one, so my pleas fell on deaf ears. By the time we reached the front of the line, I was ready to burst. But knowing that in two minutes and change I would achieve sweet release in the immaculate public restrooms, I soldiered on.
I hopped into the second car with my friend Tyler and we began the suspenseful cog ride to the crest of the first big drop. We reached the top and the roller coaster paused for one last second of anticipation. The roller coaster then paused for one last 30 seconds of anticipation. After which the roller coaster paused for one last 4 minutes of anticipation… The power in the park had gone out. We knew this because an employee –barely containing his giggles– told us so over the emergency broadcast speakers. Things would be up and running shortly.
An hour and a half later, I was in tears. And it wasn’t the funny “Oh this is just my luck” crying. I was sobbing uncontrollably. Over the past 90 minutes I had convinced myself that if I didn’t pee soon, I would likely die. My bladder would burst and the urea in my waste would seep into my other vital organs, rendering them useless. I would slowly hemorrhage and die before we made the first loop. Late night comedians would mock me for my hilariously unfortunate death. My family would be too ashamed to hold a funeral in my memory, opting, instead, to bury me in secret in the dead of night. I finally decided to take action.
I believed that I could drop my pants through the body restraint that had me fastened to my seat and aim the stream over the side of the car. My first mistake was to tell Tyler my plan; he promised death would meet me quickly if my penis decided to make an appearance. Knowing that death was close anyways, I went for it regardless. The restraint allowed my pants to fall only 4 inches, so I had to make do. And make do I did not. I turned an act of peeing – one that I had done for years without incident mind you – into a tsunami of humiliation. Exactly no pee made it outside of the car. My plan had failed gloriously, and one of my best friends was now screaming at me like I was a puppy that had pooed on the couch.
About twenty cold, wet minutes later the roller coaster resumed its course and then we returned to the station and disembarked. My friends looked at my soaked pants with bemused bewilderment, unable to process that a 15 year old had peed himself. Instead of pleading my case, I instead met them each in the eye and said:
“We’re going on the Log Flume…. Now.”
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Tyler
I have an embarrassingly low tolerance for pain. I have requested, on more than one occasion, a trip to the hospital after stubbing my toe, or enduring mild sunburn, or a nasty hangnail, only for my girlfriend to shoot me down. I have never broken a bone in my life, but I would assume that it would certainly kill me. So obviously, getting my ear pierced was obviously an awesome idea.
My brother Tyler is three years younger than I, and three times as cool. Anything I have done to look or act cool is based on whether he would do it (much like “What Would Jesus Do,” but based around getting tattoos and wearing hooded sweatshirts). I was 18 when I decided to get my ears pierced. My brother was 15 at the time and was already working on gauging out his ears. At this point, he could fit a pencil through the holes in his lobes. When I expressed interest in getting my ears pierced he told me I couldn’t just get the lobes done; that would be lame. I was okay with lame, so long as it didn’t hurt much. After much back and forth we settled on the Daith, which unlike the fleshy lobes, is pure cartilage (and sounds unfortunately sexual). This did not bode well for me, but Tyler thought it was cool, so I went ahead with it.
Every tattoo/piercing parlor is exactly the same. They all have names like “The Lion’s Den” or “Earth’s Edge” or “Tony Danza’s Mandible.” They all have a small television in the corner that plays nothing but “People’s Court” and have a hand written sign that boldly proclaims, “Yes, it hurts!”
I drove Tyler and myself to The Purple Scorpion a couple towns over. I asked him to come so the guy wouldn’t scam me and charge extra, but I really wanted him there because I was terrified. At least he looked like he belonged there and knew the language. I, on the other hand, had been to too many Dashboard Confessional concerts and had seen too many people with piercings and decided that I too would join the club. Had I gone alone I would have been like an indecisive obese child in an Italian bakery, overwhelmed by all the possibilities. We entered the studio and told the sharply dressed and well kept man behind the counter – who I will refer to as “Leslie” from here on out. It can be a guy’s name too! – the services I would be requiring that afternoon. With a scratch of his patchy beard and flick of his ponytail he ushered me back into the dentist chair and got his materials ready.
Needles are not things I take “in-stride” as they say. So when Leslie pulled out the vampire stake that would put the whole through my ear, my testicles receded into my pelvis for protection. I immediately regretted this decision. I wanted to get out of there as quickly as I could, but I couldn’t look like a wimp in front of Tyler.
Leslie grabbed my ear with what I can best describe as grill tongs, pulled my ear a couple feet away from my head, and rubbed iodine onto ground zero with a piece of sandpaper. The following thirty seconds went as follows:
“Are you ready?”
“No”
“Ok, on three.”
“No”
“One, two…”
Apparently, it is a joke among tattoo parlors to ignore the code of The Onetwothree. Immediately after “two,” I felt lightning shoot through my ear and across my face. I trusted this man with my life and he haphazardly played with my emotions. But, I was done! The worst was over. I stood up and turned towards the door. Tyler turned to me and said, “Say thank you.”
Passing out is an incredibly foreign experience. You know it is happening before you drop to the floor, but never head heed the warning signs – The second the needle went into my ear and my head felt snowy and my mouth filled with marbles. All the blood in my body rushed to my legs. By the time I stood up it was too late to do anything; I was on a one-way train to Tile City.
When I came too I started counting legs, considering that was all I could see from my vantage point. One, two, three. Three legs. Three legs? Oh, Leslie has one leg. HE HAS ONE LEG? How did I miss that? How did he get to the back room without me noticing? What am I doing on the floor? A cup of water was pushed in my face, which I grabbed and sipped at it like a timid gazelle at an untested watering hole. After he made sure I didn’t hit my head or wasn’t bleeding, Leslie unceremoniously kicked my brother and I to the curb.
I sat on the hood of my car for a good twelve minutes trying to process the previous series of events. It was the first (although certainly not the last) time something like this had happened to me. In the years that follow I will pass out naked in a doctors office, on the toilet during a bout with the flu, at the movie theater while watching the Notebook, and on the first day of finals at college. I’ve grown to accept and understand this part of my physiology. However, on this inaugural event I was somewhat confused, but mostly embarrassed. Tyler sat next to me, gave me more water and said the most sincere thing he’s ever said in his life.
“I’m proud of you.”
It made it all worth it. -
“I’ve burned more bridges than Sherman’s march to the sea.”
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“I want to start a “ripped from the headlines” style Law and Order show based solely on small town newspapers. “Stormy Halloween Party a Howling Success.” “Booster’s Club Continues to Thank Donors.”
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[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Georgia Aquarium Radio Spot.
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super fast info graphic i made this afternoon. breakdown by neighborhood of the san francisco missed connections for this past weekend.
full PDF here.
i love DIN.
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“They’re extraordinary, they’re like mystery stories! You don’t even know what they’re selling, until the very end. Three rabbits are on a log, and one of them goes home and hangs himself- buy a bike!”Lewis Black on Super Bowl Commercials. Pretty great summation of my career path.
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One of my co-workers is in Europe and left her IM signed in. I’ve been responding to her messages all week.
