Fuck You, Salad World!

I work in a skyscraper in downtown Denver, in Granite Tower, 7th Floor, to be exact. Funny, because it is not made of granite, and it really isn't that much of a tower. Its a pretty standard office building, I work in a cube when I'm here. I ride the elevator. I can relate well to office-related comedy movies and tv shows.

Usually I"m pretty good about bringing a lunch to work with me. I also have a decent assortment of snacks at my desk...bag of pistachios, some pretzels, etc...

Every now and then my wife and I get a wild-hair up our collective ass and think "man, we should eat healthier". So on the days when I am either too lazy or too hurried to bring my lunch in to work, I usually go down to this place called "Salad World".

Salad World is conveniently situated right next to our building, and as you might guess, they serve salads. Its owned (I think) by a nice Asian couple. Its just a small place, you walk in, there's 2 rows of salad-bar and some styrofoam containers. You walk through the salad bar, put whatever salad you want into your little container, and then they weigh it at the cash register (I think its $5.99 per lb). The whole operation appears to be pretty easy-going, clean, and fresh. The Floors are usually recently-mopped, and the whole place is very well lit. The idea of getting a salad for lunch makes you think "yes, I'm not gonna be a fat-slob, I'm eating salad, I care about myself!"

Here's the catch. Nestled in between the row of lettuce, the cucumbers, the fresh cabbage and peas, there's a small steam table. In the steam table is probably one of the most disgusting things you'll ever see: slices of shit-cheap sausages and pre-made SYSCO-style meatballs, all covered in the most disgusting cheap-ass barbeque sauce. One Ladle-full of this shit is probably 4,000 calories; all of it saturated fat and cholesterol. It is of little-to-no nutritional value.

Its like a massive middle-finger in the middle of your well-intentioned healthy lunch plans. It stares back at you, its angry with you, it fucking hates your guts. Its saying "c'mon you rapidly-aging corporate fat piece of shit, you know you want it...eat me."

...And I always get some of it. No matter how strong my will-power or discipline.

I sneak back to my little cube, container of "salad" reeking like BO, meat, and shitty BBQ and eat. Oh sure, I still get the salad part...I usually stock up on the broccoli, carrots, and cauliflower..but there's always that fucking sausage mix.

And every time after eating it I think "thats the last time, that fucking plate of sausages won't get me next time. its cold, its gross, I hate it..I'm never getting that again!"

So a week or two goes by, and then I end up back at salad world.

Cataclasis is on Haitus for a few days

I've got to go on another field job until friday. so I won't be behind my computer very much, certainly not enough to think of something good to write about.

Hopefully I'll come back with some sweet pictures of this adventure. Yep, we're going back to crested butte, which means more snow-mobile related field work. Snowy weather, high mountain passes, snowmobiles and snowshoes....man, this job can be good sometimes.

I also have to use my time to try and come up with a way to make yuppie-ism the new punk-rock, in order to hold up a half-drunken boast I made a few days ago.

until then....

GO HARDLINE!

An open letter...

...To our suspectedly gay retired neighboor-

While in the course of this el nino driven winter we have both enjoyed and despised the snow that now lies on all of our lawns, we certainly do appreciate your attempts to keep our neighborhood clean and clear of most weather related hazards. This includes, but is not limited to, the widening of our sidewalk, the removal of road debris from around our parked cars, the removal of snow-plowed banks of heavy snow, and the maintenance of our street corners. The dual-track, 4-stroke, cub-cadet snow-thrower you wield is a metaphor for the strength and tenacity that each and every American should aspire to.

I am truly sorry I don't remember your name. Do you recall that fateful late-spring day when you mumbled your name over the street noise (...was it adam? henry? robert?), we were just moving in, two more young sheep amongst your flock that includes all people on West 29th Avenue, from Julien to King streets?

I thought at first you reminded me of Willie Tanner (the dad from Alf). Later I came to respect your neighborhood omnipotence, thinking you closer to Patrick Stewart in Dune.

Of course, I'm writing to you today to let you know that your Patrick Sewart care has been turned into a creepy Col. Frank Fitts, USMC.. While I do appreciate your vigilance; your constant presence in your front window, scanning the world doesn't strike me as Rear Window curiosity, but rather more as the ex-marine Dad in American Beauty.

You must admit, the similarities are there...sweat-stained V-neck t-shirts worn as late as November, the insistance on smoking cigarettes on my front porch while telling me that you can file down my week-old garden shovel until it has a head-removing sharpness and balance, telling me on repeated occasions how you want to show me your classic car collection in your back garage, and your passive-aggressive comments about certain people on our street.

In the morning when I leave for the bus stop, you are always there, back-light by your dinner room light, staring out your front window, watching me while you eat what appears to be a thick piece of meatloaf and gravy. Whats up with that?

Please, for the sake of our street, remember that inasmuch as we appreciate your patriarchal care of all 19 people living on the 3300 block of West 29th avenue, we also appreciate our privacy. Not just our own, but yours too.

Sincerely,

your neighbors

Pay Attention to me!!!!

So I saw this article online today. It hurt a bit, since I'm blogging, but then I thought she's absolutely right.

1. Why wouldn't you think people want attention? everyone wants to be considered at some point. People love talking about themselves, fuckin' a, I know I do.

2. isn't it better that people write about the banal events of their life on a website no one reads than to inflict their friends and family with these trivial stories? I have coworkers that will volunteer the most boring shit on a daily basis (a crime I'm certainly guilty of myself), why not spare everyone and put it all down in a format that hurts the least amount of people?

3. There was a guy who posted about this article on another site: he said he liked to tinker with the technology. completely valid. why not teach yourself some new computer skills, or at least experiment with technologies that you would otherwise remain ignorant of?

4. Rebecca (the author) is just as guilty as the rest of us. I mean, why write an article like this if you weren't looking for people to read it? and you know, this article has spawned thousands of shitty rebuttals on thousands of pointless and boring blogs all across the internet.

Cold Nights In Colorado...

its cold here, supposed to get down into the -10's tonight, and our new furnace is churning.

In Mississippi, there isn't much to do. its kinda like living in a minimum security prison..there are no fences, but walk about a half mile away from your house, and there's nothing but unending cotton fields and sweltering, mosquito infested, swampy forests.

I did ALOT of exercising in Misissippi. By the last summer we lived there, I running 28 miles per week on average, lifting weights, and mountain biking regularly. I LOVED mountain biking in mississippi. Mississippi has a TON of MTB trails, and little to no traffic on them. when riding, I don't think I EVER saw anyone else on a trail that wasn't in our group. thats a pretty sharp contrast to colorado, where you get run over by at least 35 douchebags every time you step foot outside.

Anyhow, here's a video clip that I uploaded to youtube. one day I tried to tape our video camera to my mountain bike, just like in the super-cool videos you see pros do.




Sometimes riding while filming can be painful.

Went Skiing this weekend...

...and by skiing, I mean snowboarding. I had a GREAT time, I love it when you just have a great ski day, where on every run you aren't tense or trying to hard. Instead, you just lay back into your carves and ride.

Here's a few bands that are essential to play on your ipod when you go snowboarding. If you don't have these, you suck:

1. DRI
2. Municipal Waste
3. Judge
4. Animosity
5. Deicide (only the new album "the stench of redemption")

What'd you do over christmas Break?

I overate, over-drank, and over-laid around doing nothing.

Check out what this guy did. (Nerd warning)

Playboy + MIlitary service = d'oh!

So I was updating my myspace profile a few weeks ago, and a guy I went to high school with added me. turns out his wife is a playboy model chick.

THis morning I woke up, got a cup of coffee and began to troll the news sites, including Fark.com. I saw this article, looked at the fark comments (which included pictures of said chick) and thought "man she looks familiar."

I checked my myspace and yep, there she was, married to the guy I went to high school with.

huh. Imagine that.

My underwear is ridin' up.

I never tuck my shirts in at work, for the simple fact that it makes your underwear ride up. I can't handle that.

so I went out to the mall the other day, picked up some new shirts, and now I have my shirt tucked in here at work. I'm uncomfortable, I'm going to the bathroom every hour to adjust...its retarded.

Formerly, I supported my un-tucked lifestyle by replying with 1 of 2 excuses:

1. I'm a geologist. All good geologists should look kinda like edward abbey: beard, long scraggy hair, old button down shirt, old faded jeans and boots, big belt buckle with some amorphous chunk of turquoise on it, etc...

or

2. "Do you fucking know how much it costs to look this disheveled?"

anyway.