Shoot-out in a Restaurant

That’s my butt on the left, with the red shirt

I am sitting at table with friends, eating a sandwich and talking about how awesome my sandwich is when all of a sudden, a gunman comes in with an automatic rifle and starts shooting. Glass and chunks of food go flying everywhere, the gunman has no idea what he is shooting at and everybody is screaming.

What I think I would do:

First, I wouldn’t shit my pants at the sound of gunfire. Second, I would grab the hopefully-small-but-heavy salt shaker, and with a fluid motion, throw the salt shaker at the guy while flipping the table over to act as a shield. I would wait a moment, having hit the gunman with the salt shaker (after all, what were all those salt-shaker-throwing classes for?), pick up the table and charge at the gunman. The table simultaneously helps stop the bullets, and prevents the gunman from seeing any critical parts of my body to shoot. I hit the gunman with the table, the table flips, I slide and roll over the table and behind the gunman. I kick the gun out of his hand, grab a kitchen knife and yell for someone to help subdue him.

SECOND EXCITING SCENARIO: After the gunman comes in and i fling the salt shaker at him, I would grab the nearest friend who didn’t shit his pants and we’d attack the gunman together. Since most tables would be long and rectangular, there isn’t much of a chance of carrying a table by myself effectively. My friend and I grab both ends of the table and we charge the gunman. The gunman’s instinctive move is to shoot at the center of the table (atleast that’ what I think ti would be) so my friend and I are safe from the gunshots. The table collides with the gunman, my friend and I roll behind the gunman and we subdue him.

Why it wouldn’t work

First of all, moving around with shit in my pants is probably going to be difficult. The fact that I shit my pants means that I am in the midst of an animal instinct. Sometimes in the animal kingdom, when an animal is being chased, it empties it’s bladder/colon/shits it’s pants. This is because your body  is in it’s “Fight-or-Flight” response, which does a lot of things but most notably: Dilates your pupils to let in more light, pumps more blood into major muscles and shuts down “non-essential systems to allow more energy for emergency functions.” AKA shit your pants. This means I am terrified and most likely just want to run.

What really would happen

I would most likely be hiding BEHIND the table that I knocked down in my effort to run. After some time, some guy with balls so huge that they drag on the ground will use his table as a shield, charge at the gunman, attack him and stand over the unconscious gunman’s body in victory. And that guy’s balls will no doubt be sitting on the gunman’s forehead in victory as well. Cuz he has huge balls, am i right?

Getting Hit By a Car

Exactly how I imagine it

I actually think about this every time I cross the street. I imagine some lady on her cell phone, not noticing that I am crossing the street. Seconds before she hits me, I look up and…

What I think I would do:

I would jump. I would jump in the air, get hit by the hood of the car, crash into the window (possibly cracking it) and roll gently off the side of the car. Then I pop up, most likely bleeding with a hurt leg, hobble up to the driver’s side window, put my hand on their window and say

“what, the, fuck.”

Why it wouldn’t work

My very first car accident went down almost exactly like that. I was making a left out of a parking lot row, and some lady was driving towards me. As I am turning left, I look up and see her coming towards me. She’s on her cell phone, and she’s definitely not stopping. And you know what I did? I stopped, right in the middle of the road and she hit the side of my car. See, before that, I had been imagining that exact situation, except instead of getting hit, I would use my awesome reflexes and put the car in reverse and get the f’ out of there. Instead, I sat there like a dumbfounded deer and got my car’s hood messed up. And since I was the one making the left turn, it was my fault.

What really would happen

If the car accident story gave you any insight on how I am, I am pretty sure it’d be the same. In the event that a car comes barreling towards me, I would probably just stand there dumbfounded and get my hip cracked by the hood of their car. And I’d either be unconscious, wishing I was unconscious or crying about how much I wish I was unconscious.

A Dog Attack

Also how I imagine it.

I am walking in a neighborhood when all of a sudden, I hear the sound of paws trotting on the street behind me. I turn around to see a huge german shepherd running full speed at me, teeth bared and slobber flying in the air behind him.

What I think I would do:

I stand my ground like a badass. Right as he jumps to attack me, I would do a Liu-Kang-Flying-Kick and make that dog’s face understand why my $25 dollar shoes are making my feet hurt! I mean seriously, I buy these shoes cuz they’re cheap… there’s no support at all man, no support. The dog feels my pain and runs away, his tail between his legs and whining the whole time.

SECOND EXCITING SCENARIO: If it is a small dog, and it looks rabid, i have always imagined punting the dog across the street. I mean come on, ONLY IF IT’S RABID.

Why it wouldn’t work

First of all, as evidenced by how I feel I would handle the previous events (shitting my pants, hiding, getting hit by a car, crying), I really don’t think I would be able to confidently stand my ground against a snarling crazy giant dog. Plus, my martial arts experience amounts to 3 years in middle school, half of the time I ran outside and hid in the bushes until the class was over cuz I didn’t want to do it. So I think that effectively eliminates the possibility of me doing a Liu-Kang-Flying-Kick.

As for punting the small rabid dog? I bet i’d miss and then it’d bite me in the crotch. god damnit.

What really would happen

I’d run. Seriously, I’d run for it. I’d say “OH SHIT” and run, run as fast as I could, looking back over my shoulder periodically to see how much closer the dog is. At some point, the dog would overtake me, and I’d fall on the ground and try to wrestle the dog. I actually honestly feel that at this point, because my life is in danger, I would grow a pair of balls and a spine and actually fight against the dog. I’d punch it’s face, head butt it, and most likely attempt to grab it’s legs and swing it around. If someone were watching this, I believe it’d be very comical. and if it was the small dog, extremely comical. For me, fighting either of the crazy dogs, not so much.

-Wes G

BASIC FUNCTION: Under the direction of an assigned supervisor, assist students, staff and parents in the selection of books and organized literacy materials, establish guidelines. Provide computer training, maintain records and computer lab equipment;drive a 38-foot mobile literacy van to various child development sites and schools to conduct

DID YOU FCKING READ THAT?

DRIVE A MOTHER F’CKING 38 FOOT MOBILE LITERACY VAN.

THAT IS FUCKING AWESOME.

-WES-

   me:  hey
wanna try something for me?
are you buys?
byst
busty
are you busty?
   Austin:  extremely busty 
   me:  good
thats what i need
i need you to put your hands where i need them
on the keyboard. 
   Austin:  check!    
   Austin:  i’m gripping 

I’m trying to fix my mom’s AOL mail account (yes, she has aol.) It’s not displaying mail through the mail program, so she has to go to the internet and access it through there.

Mom: This is a real problem, because I get like 50 emails a day. When I go on my 3 week trip, I am going to have like, 3000 emails.

Me: Ummm well, how is this any different from like, when you and papa go on business trips? You don’t really have access to your email there, right?

Mom: That’s not the point. I mean, i’m going to have 3000 emails. That is ridiculous. three-thousand-emails.

-wes-

I am about to go to my very first day of work at the Merced County Department of Workforce Investment, and I have to say, I am very very nervous. All day yesterday I was nervous. It kinda felt like I was going to my first day in middle school because I was afraid if people were going to make fun of lunch or my backpack. All night I had those weird cliche dreams, like going to work without my pants on (my pants are on now) or people surrounding me and chanting my name. I am quite sure I will get over that as soon as I realize that I live in the real world, and not television.

I never really made an announcement that I got a job, but that’s because I’ve been really superstitious about it. During both interviews I barely twittered about it out of fear that I would jinx it. Even now, I’ve been so nervous about writing about it because the job requires some writing experience and I feel as if my metaphorical-writing-tongue is tied and I can barely form coherent paragraphs. I think I’ve kept my whole job-applying history basically a secret except for people I see in person and talk to, but lucky for you, it isn’t very long.

The first job that I applied for in Merced was an Instructional Aide position for Special Education, through the Merced County Office of Education. It was a full time position, 6.5 hours a day (32.5 per week) at the pay rate of $11.06 an hour. I would be working with another aide exclusively for one student. Usually, in the world of Special Education, a misbehaving student has a one-to-one instructional aide, someone to constantly watch over that student so they don’t harm other students or staff. This student required two. And in the interview, I learned several things about how misbehaving the student was:

1. She had to be picked up by the staff in the morning because she knew how to stall
2. She would often hit, bite and scratch
3. She could vomit on command

I did not want this job. I didn’t know that, because I was extremely desperate to find a job in Merced, which at the time seemed impossible. It was very disheartening to know that my best job scenario was for a 3/4 full time job with a student that vomits on command.

Thankfully, I didn’t get the job. I was bummed out about it, but I was actually able to substitute for one of the aides for that student one day. It was one of my last days working as a sub, and i was very lucky that day. In the morning I learned that I would be working at Merced Transition Center for 6.5 hours- which gave me a hint that I would be working with that very scary, dreaded student. When I arrived, I learned that I would be working with another aide exclusively for one student. This basically proved it to me. The teachers told me that she liked to hit, scratch, vomit on command and that I have to be awake and aware of my surroundings in case she tries to attack me. And then, they told me something amazing: she was sick. Not like “psychologically sick”, but that she was at home with some sort of cough and that she wouldn’t be coming in. So instead of being vomited on all day, I instead vacuumed the floors with a brand new carpet cleaning vacuum, colored with crayons and learned of the terrifying stories of Trina, the student I might have worked for.

I am pretty sure I won’t be vomited on today, so I am thankful for that. This job is almost everything I could have dreamed of. The job description online was very badly written and didn’t reveal much, but it turned out that I will be working as an Intern. Being an intern makes me hesitate to say that this is my first “real job”, but i don’t really care. What makes me so excited is that I will be doing almost everything I enjoy. I will be writing stories on people who have landed jobs with the help of the Dept. of Workforce Investment. I will be doing general IT work- setting up projectors and troubleshooting problems. I may be assigned to design a monthly/weekly newsletter. During the interview they even asked if Photography was a hobby of mine! Of course, I haven’t worked yet and the only thing I know for sure is that I will be writing.

“Ironically” (since the definition of irony is something happening the opposite of what was expected), I will be working 3/4 full time (1560 hours a year) similar to the other job I applied for, but the pay is much better. I am extremely excited. Wish me luck!

-wes-

There are some things in the world that annoy the fuck out of me, and I can’t believe nobody has solved them yet. Someday, they will be solved…hopefully by me so i make a lot of money. Just like the guy who made like, a million dollars off those sticky-octopi things that fall down walls. He didn’t solve any problems, but man, like, a million dollars. that’s awesome.

1. Coffee stains on coffee cups that you can’t fit your hand into

FUCK THIS. I have a thermos and the inside is filled with brown coffee stains. thats bullshit. Not only can I never put anything other than coffee in it again (unless I enjoy mildly-coffee flavored everything, including lets say, mildly-coffee-flavored apple soda), but i can’t do anything about it unless I get a awesome-thermos-shaped automatic cleaner. Which doesn’t exist. Fuck you.

Short Term Solution: Filling to the brim with a whole box of baking soda and boiling hot water can remove maybe 10% of the horrible coffee residue, which makes it 10% better tasting for non-coffee related drinks! that’s like saving on tax! or something.

2. The food-catcher strainer thing at the bottom of your sink (or “food scrap catcher”) and by extension- mesh shower things that catch hairs

FUCK THIS TOO. but in a different way. like… food scraps are disgusting. and the fact that when the food scrap catcher starts clogging your sink and water doesn’t go down the drain anymore, you basically have to put your hand into the muck of spaghetti-sauce-pepsi-tea-soup concoction that’s been brewing for a couple minutes. If you’re anything like me, that mixture is probably cold too, and then all the fucking red tomato sauce shit sticks to your hand. And then you have to shamefully walk to the garbage can, WITH YOUR HAND UNDERNEATH THE DISGUSTING BLOB OF SINK STRAINER CATCHING THE DRIPS OF GROSSNESS, and shake it into the garbage can, most likely spreading filth and disease and viruses and hepatitis A and B (WHICH IS INCURABLE) and C and ebola and ecoli and

I just took this “blood borne pathogen” seminar for my work as a sub, so i’m a little creeped out by viruses and shit. did you know hepatitis can remain dormant for more than 20 years?

anyways, the point is, that little stupid food scrap catcher is disgusting. it will eventually develop a film of grossness on it… and what are you supposed to do- clean it? i mean, it’s the food scrap catcher. it has little straining holes. which means that every little nook and cranny will have that film of grossness, and eventually be so disgusting that you’ll have to shell out a buck at the dollar store to get another one. infuriating, right?!

Short Term Solution: Fuck the food scrap catcher

3. The um, well, ya know. like when you have hair, you know.. gosh this is really awkward. well you know, like, you know, the hair….down…there… men, you know what I’m talking about right? you exercise and stuff right? and then… like, stuff… accumulates on the hair… can I get a holla? Anybody? OK well let’s just say it’s like the end result of the Food Scrap Catcher, except flopping around in your pants.

Right. Now that we got that out of the way, it’s annoying. Face it, you may not want to admit that you have this…ya know, affliction, but ADMIT IT. WE ALL HAVE IT. I may not shower twice a day (or you know, once every two days either sometimes, seriously guys, who hasnt), but i did an experiment one time. No matter what, whether you shower once every two days or twice a day, THAT SHIT STILL ACCUMULATES. it’s fucking annoying and disgusting. and there’s practically nothing you can do about it, short of grabbing the clumps of hair with a hand towel and ripping them off or scrubbing them, looking like a crazy ass weirdo. It’s not easy to clean, no matter how much fucking soap you use. It’s basically like cleaning the Food Scrap Catcher, you just have to throw it away and buy a new one for a buck.

Short Term Solution:  Or in this case, rip them out, hope that your hygiene supports a better ecosystem in gushy-blorb town, and wait for them to grow back. In which case, it’ll be the same amount of gunk accumulating on smaller hairs. which is more gross.

-wes-