Tears.
Tears of mirth that is.
My uncle Jim probably made me laugh the hardest I ever have during Christmas. There were ten of us around the table playing a card game we call Oh Hell. The object of the game is to bid on the number of tricks you think you can take. The catch about this game is that we each start with 10 or 9 cards in our hand (depending on the number of people playing) and go down each round all the way to one, then back up to 10. After everyone has drawn their cards, then one person flips up a card from the remainder of the pile and that suit is trump. If you make it, you get 10 points plus the number that you bid. If Jim bids 3 and makes it, he gets 13 points.
The way we bid we call it knock bidding. Everyone knocks three times on the table at the same time. On the third knock everyone sticks out fingers representing the number of tricks one thinks they can get. So if I thought I could take two tricks, I would knock, One....Two...and on three i'd put out two fingers. Anyways, that's the premise of the game.
Jim was sitting beside me and he'd just bang on the table to startle people and see how many jumped/or said "heyheyhey, i'm not ready." So we were chuckling about that. I did it to see how many people jumped when my dad said "Okay, next person that does that gets a five point penalty." We laughed about that.
Then it happened.
We went to knock and on the second knock, my sister Mindy pulled her hand back and said "Wait, wait, wait, I'm not ready." To which my uncle said "Oh, if you pull out in the middle of banging, it's a two point penalty."
My eyes just went completely wide as I couldn't really believe he said that. Of course we took that as wrongly as we possibly could prompting roars of laughter. I was glad there was a back on my chair otherwise I would have been on the floor. Through my tears I saw my cousin Jesse laughing into his shirt, my cousin Abby crying more tears than I, and Jim laying on the table with his head on his arm laughing just as hard if not harder than the rest of us.
It was probably the funniest Freudian slip in a long time.
Merry Christmas to all.
I wish a very merry Christmas and happy holidays to everyone and their loved ones as we celebrate Christmas. Cherish the time spent with loved ones during this holiday season. At the same, time, don't forget to have a little fun too.
The christmas spirit
has struck.
I'm in full fledged Christmas mode. I think it has something to do with Christmas number one coming up tonight as we have a celebration with a very good family friend. This will be a little different as the friend will be without her furry little companion for this christmas as Radar was put to sleep a few days ago.
The gift I'm giving her is a charcoal drawing of the dog. I'm thinking that some tears could be shed.
Dammit Gilbert.
That's all I can say. Well, in all honesty, we said other things too, but I don't feel it is necessary to repeat them here.
We hunted one of our favorite spots and I shot a rooster. Then we decided to head to Gilbert's for the corners. To our collective horror, the corners had been cut. NOOOOO. Gilbert had mowed them down. Today there probably would have been bird after bird in the corners. It nearly made me sick to my stomach.
I hate it when that happens.
A rare win.
(03:00:58) An Angry Fish Will Bite You : yes. i am a nut. Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't.
(03:01:13 ® M) ~*eVa*~
[IMG]
: quit feeling your nuts, Rusty
(03:01:28 ® M) ~*eVa*~
[IMG]
: every once in awhile i like to get dirty on Rusty....it makes him stammer
(03:04:08) An Angry Fish Will Bite You : i didn't say sometimes you have to feel up a nut. i said sometimes you feel like a nut. I am a nut 93% of the time.
(03:04:42 ® M) ~*eVa*~
[IMG]
: Rusty...why do you feel your nuts 93 percent of the time
(03:05:16) An Angry Fish Will Bite You : because you said you won't feel them for me.
(03:05:59 ® M) ~*eVa*~
[IMG]
: k...Rusty just made me stammer
Too much sleep?
Maybe it was too much sleep, maybe it was something else. All I know, is that my dreams were completely and totally screwed up. One of the dreams was a "dream within a dream" where I remember dreaming that I was dreaming. It was real enough to say to myself, "I'm dreaming."
Dr. Myers,
I am writing this email to express my frustration with the Spanish 111 final exam. I just returned home from taking this final and to be quite honest, I am seething. The fact that this final was a block final for all the Spanish 111 students was a very poor idea. This idea of the block final was not even remotely helpful, in fact it was horribly the opposite. I went over my previous tests, looking and correcting the little mistakes I made but after my first initial look at the final, I realized much to my horror that i was very ill prepared. Some of the wording in the paragraphs that we were to decipher, seemed as if it was a different dialect of spanish. There was a phrase of "senter...." that was equivelent to "tengo hambre." We did not learn the senter version, we learned that one has hunger.
To cram three different classes, TAUGHT by three different instructors, into a room and force them to take a generalized course final, in terms of the idea, probably ranks right up there with the Titanic setting sail, or even JFK going through Dallas in November of 1963. Do not get me wrong, as I did enjoy my instructor, Jimmy Thornburg. But to put Thornburg's students in the same room taking a test that was not specifically tailored to what Thornburg's students had covered, was in my belief, an incredible lapse in judgement on behalf of the department. I wouldn't have been as frustrated if Spanish 111 was team taught so the students received instruction from all of the different instructors. I highly doubt this is a feasible option for the university however.
Up to the point of actually having the exam in my hands, I felt confident that I could do reasonably well on the final. However, I'm afraid that is not the case. To me, along with my classmates that I talked with after the final exam, we felt that we were in serious trouble in regards to our grades. My frustration also includes having to commute to campus on a Saturday morning to get reamed by an exam. If the class had taken place on a Saturday, I would have no problems at all with a Saturday morning final, but for myself and my classmates, it was a daily class and I think should have been a final sometime during the normal class hours, or even a final during a reasonable block of time.
Until the final exam, I had actually enjoyed taking Spanish. Now I'm afraid that I will dread Spanish as I still have 10 more hours to complete before I can receive a degree. This disaster will also force me to recommend to people looking at starting/continuing their education at Wichita State to look elsewhere to complete their undergraduate degrees.
Thank you,
Rusty
The one time....
it snows, and covers things in a fluffy white blanket, my explorer is kaput with a damaged radiator. Thanks to my car guru, the new radiator is in and will be slapped into the correct position soon.
If it hadn't blown up, I would have spent yesterday traipsing about in the snow with my gun. I probably would have been able to shoot a few birds, but hey, not much I can do when I've got a lake of liquid green in the driveway. Oh well, what can you do? Nothing but sit there and say "Well shit."
The good news is I just saved a bunch of money..oh fuck i did not.
Shattered dreams and broken trust
Okay, so the title of that is really deep. The substance behind the title is really shallow.
We were rather hyped about the prospects of shooting a lot of birds on Saturday. The G-man said there were birds galore in the area we were traveling too. I was pretty much convinced I was going to shoot my limit by noon.
I was wrong.
The first area we hunted was designed by a three-year old and a Spirograph. It was curving and twisting with no real rhyme or reason. We kicked two out right away, then there was a little drought. I did see about 20-30 flush wild out of one of the opposite corners. One did flush about 30 yards from me. I rushed the shot and was over the top a little bit. I did hit the bird once as it buckled in midair, but the sucker kept going. Jar and the G-man each had a shot at two roosters that flushed in front of them, but they missed as well.
From that point on the rest of the day was a big zero. Two hour drive after three hours of sleep for nothing. I wasn't really happy. Neither was Jarrett as we passed up an opportunity to hunt a couple of patches that we have permission to hunt to head west.
I do believe that the weather played a factor in the hunt. A front was rolling through or in the process and I think the birds were moving to feed before light. The problem with that was the fact that we were hunting large patches of prairie grass. Plus, we ran across a covey of quail in a tree. Anytime you see quail in a tree, something isn't right.
Crunch Time
End of the semester crunch time has sprung upon me.
It will be a busy ass week because I've got stories to pursue along with a total of 7 basketball games to broadcast, a test, a composition, a couple of essays and a final exam at eightofuckingclock on saturday morning. What kind of bullshit is that?
