The EllGab Slice of Life Thread

[PB]

... Metalshop though... a stolen mailbox flag was turned into a nasty, vicious, miniature tomahawk... Mother's Little Darlings...

Haha, nice.

We made throwing ninja stars, cut from sheet metal and sharpened, and whipped them around the cavernous shop room, trying (mostly successfully) to stick them into the ceiling tiles.  The teacher never noticed them up there.

[Rikki Gins]

That was great, WAN.  Looking forward to Part II.

[Walks_At_Night]

Part II.  The Tale of Gus the Greek

Yolanda

For many kids being sent to the Office would lead to some anxiety but in this case I was not worried.  Firstly, Fergie's erratic lunacy was well understood by all and was unlikely to lead to anything of consequence.  Secondly, just like Captain Sternn in the movie, Heavy Metal, I had an angle [Check him out on Youtube if the reference is unfamiliar to you].  My Dad was born in the early 1920's and my Mom in the later part of that decade and they were in their 40's when I was born.  They were definitely older than my peers parents.  There are some disadvantages to having older parents but there are some advantages too.  One of those advantages is that they know a lot of people.  So it was with the occupants of the Front Office.  The Office desk lady was a real sweet heart of a person, whom lived four doors down and had known me since the day they brought me home from the Hospital.  My Mom used to baby sit our Principal when he was a wee little guy.  He always ended any interaction I had with him with a  "Tell your Mom that I said hi".   Confidence was most definitely high as I cruised the hallways.

As I reached the Office, I met Yolanda coming out as I was going in.  It would not be unusual at all for her to be sent to the Front Office.  She was a real piece of work.  She was black, had a pretty nice body, a motor mouth and a mind like a bear trap.  Light colored blue jeans with the outline of handprints drawn on each ass cheek seemed to be her favorite garb. It was almost certain that she lipped off to some authority figure somewhere and was sent to the Office on this occasion.

We usually had about 5 minutes or so before class started in the classrooms and more often than not the teacher would not be present during this time.  That left time for verbal jousting and Kabuki Theater.  It was almost always a dude thing and the unwritten rules were well understood.  Two dudes would start ripping on each other relentlessly.  Each guy would be allowed several rounds to hammer away with verbal jabs and when a barb  cut too deep the wounded party would exclaim "Suck my Dick".  This was essentially a chess resignation - I'm out, It's over, No Mas, Stick a fork in me, Done, Finis.  The vanquished would make a fist while the victor would cock their swear finger with the thumb, snap the wrist whilst releasing the finger with a booming thump into the losers fist.  When done correctly it hurt like hell.  Such is the cost of doing battle.  Like anything else some were better at the game than others.

Being in Detroit we were just across the river from Canada so we got both American and Canadian TV.  This was cool at a time when most did not have cable.  You got twice the channels.  The Toronto Maple Leaf hockey team was usually featured during Hockey Night in Canada and was watched by all pretty frequently.  The Leafs goal tender at the time was a guy named Mike Palmateer [pronounced Pall-Maw-Teer].  We had a guy with the unlikely name of Palmerston.  This lasted about thirty whole seconds before he was re-christened as Palmateer.  Everyone called him this - even some of the more hip teachers.  Palmateer played the game and he played it badly which was unfortunate because he was a bleeder.  A solid thump would almost always open him up and he'd bleed like a stuck pig.  If the victor managed to rip him open and draw blood there was an added bonus - a cherry on top if you will.  The winner would  point at his groin with both index fingers and chant "Jump on it. Jump on it. Jump on it Palmateer".

It was a strange game and much like Global Thermonuclear War, I figured the only winning move was not to play.  Yolanda though.  She could walk into the valley of death and fear no damn evil at all.  With her ability to think at something just under the speed of light and her sharp tongue she would almost never lose.  Her favored opponent was The Jock with special attention given to Fillet-O-Wrestler.  Nothing made her day like ripping open a Wrestler.  Anyone that doesn't eat for three days and then sits in a Sauna for an hour wearing a  sweat suit to "make weight" is kind of a iffy personality.  She'd tear into them like a Lioness taking down a gazelle.   When the inevitable happened and the grappler conceded with a "Suck my dick", Yolanda would give the vanquished a sultry look, lick her lips and say "Whip it out".  This usually lead to a red face look of embarrassment on the  victim.  Rumor had it that Yolanda's glue on nails were made of carbide and hurt like holy hell when she landed her thump.  I didn't know for sure and definitely did not want to find out.  As he was a known bleeder, Palmateer was also one of her favorite victims.  He was always up for it and he'd always lose - with blood flow as the inevitable result.

Yolanda always fascinated me.  I felt that there was much more to her than met the eye.  She kept a little note book and would often write stuff down into it.  She sat next to me in one class and I asked her what she was writing. "Just some bullshit to pass the time".  I asked if I could take a peek and she hesitated a second but then  handed it over.  It was poetry and it was shit hot!  Busted skulls, burst arteries squirting blood, Demons ripping out entrails with razor claws, eyeballs lying on the pavement.  "Wow Yolanda.  This stuff really kicks ass". "Uhm hmmm. Just don't tell nobody". Not wanting to betray her trust it was a promise I kept.  Until now....... 

Perhaps she had pent up rage which she funneled into the pummeling the Palmateer fist and with her poetry.   40 plus years down the road and I wonder what she did with her life.  Her grades were awful due to zero effort expended towards them and I don't even recall if she graduated.  Hope things turned out well for her - she had talents.  I could see her as a CIA agent down in Gitmo sweating out information from a terrorist or working for the FBI getting a hood to confess.   Hopefully there is a pencil and notebook involved in there somewhere too.   Wish her nothing but the best.

<<End of Part II.  The Tale of Gus the Greek>>

[Rikki Gins]

Nice, WAN!  All set for Part III.

[Rikki Gins]

Here is a slice of my life that took place a couple weeks back. I had driven to my local grocery store to look for some, what else, grocery items, when I was greeted by the following sight.

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The famous Wienermobile! Actually, it is one of six, to be more precise.

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I almost had the whole Wienermobile to myself, except for that man who was also taking some pictures of it.

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Over to the right you can see the two drivers, under the red tent top. I went over and talked to them for a bit.  The guy on the left is Matthew, and on the right is his co-pilot, Emily.  I asked about the Wienermobile that crashed awhile back, and of course they knew all about it.  Matthew informed me that it was a smaller version Wienermobile, and that the driver hadn't been hurt.  He gave me a coupon for Oscar Mayer meats and a nice little whistle in the shape of a Wienermobile.

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After I finished shopping, I noticed that Matthew had rolled up the display tent and polls, and was storing them in the Wienermobile's trunk.   He and Emily will spend an entire year driving the Wienermobile all around the Western states.  They will be in Clovis, California on October 11.

[Walks_At_Night]

Can we get a pix of that sweet weiner whistle?

[Walks_At_Night]

Nice, WAN!  All set for Part III.

Life has gotten in the way but Part III will be later in the week.

[KSM]

Here is a slice of my life that took place a couple weeks back. I had driven to my local grocery store to look for some, what else, grocery items, when I was greeted by the following sight.

visitors can't see pics , please register or login

The famous Wienermobile! Actually, it is one of six, to be more precise.

visitors can't see pics , please register or login

I almost had the whole Wienermobile to myself, except for that man who was also taking some pictures of it.

visitors can't see pics , please register or login

Over to the right you can see the two drivers, under the red tent top. I went over and talked to them for a bit.  The guy on the left is Matthew, and on the right is his co-pilot, Emily.  I asked about the Wienermobile that crashed awhile back, and of course they knew all about it.  Matthew informed me that it was a smaller version Wienermobile, and that the driver hadn't been hurt.  He gave me a coupon for Oscar Mayer meats and a nice little whistle in the shape of a Wienermobile.

visitors can't see pics , please register or login


visitors can't see pics , please register or login


visitors can't see pics , please register or login


visitors can't see pics , please register or login

After I finished shopping, I noticed that Matthew had rolled up the display tent and polls, and was storing them in the Wienermobile's trunk.   He and Emily will spend an entire year driving the Wienermobile all around the Western states.  They will be in Clovis, California on October 11.

That is a great entry, Rikki.

Those pictures! 

[sean92008]

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The famous Wienermobile! Actually, it is one of six, to be more precise.

I wonder if any marketing guy ever thought of making a condom that looks like a hot dog with the Oscar Mayer logo on it. Just curious

[Rikki Gins]

Can we get a pix of that sweet weiner whistle?

You bet, WAN!  Sometime tomorrow...

[Rikki Gins]

That is a great entry, Rikki.

Those pictures! 

Well thank you, KSM!  I'm very happy that you liked the pics.

[Rikki Gins]

I wonder if any marketing guy ever thought of making a condom that looks like a hot dog with the Oscar Mayer logo on it. Just curious

Looks as if the Wienermobile will be headed your way next week, Sean.  If you see them at a store, you can stop by and ask them about it.  I'm sure they've been asked every question under the sun, by now.

[Rikki Gins]

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Here is the whistle, WAN. 

[JUAN]

In my travels home from Thanksgiving, I stopped at a convenience store for coffee.  It was located on the edge of a not-so-good neighborhood. As I waited for the coffee machine to make my drink, a neighborhood gentleman walked up and started using the ATM which was nearby.  He wore that standard uniform of Chucks, jeans and two hoodies.
I got my coffee, paid at checkout, then walked outside and towards my car.  I heard a voice call out, "Hey, partner. Before you get too far, can you help me out?"
It was the guy from the ATM. I figured he was going to say the ATM didn't work and ask for money.  I had my standard reply ready, which is to yell 'I don't speak English' in the Serbo-Croat I learned from a Bosnian former girlfriend.
But instead, he pulled out a large roll that appeared to be legitimate bills, peeled a 20 off the top, and asked me to go back into the store and buy him a pack of cigarettes.  He said he didn't have his ID.
I looked him square in the eye and said "No. I'm not going to help you smoke. Those things are killing you man.  You are a worthy human being and deserve to live out your full life. I'm not helping you cut it short."
His jaw dropped and he agreed with me.  He walked out to the street and away from the store.
I figure there's about a 10% chance that he really wanted cigarettes.
What scam was he trying to run?

[KSM]

In my travels home from Thanksgiving, I stopped at a convenience store for coffee.  It was located on the edge of a not-so-good neighborhood. As I waited for the coffee machine to make my drink, a neighborhood gentleman walked up and started using the ATM which was nearby.  He wore that standard uniform of Chucks, jeans and two hoodies.
I got my coffee, paid at checkout, then walked outside and towards my car.  I heard a voice call out, "Hey, partner. Before you get too far, can you help me out?"
It was the guy from the ATM. I figured he was going to say the ATM didn't work and ask for money.  I had my standard reply ready, which is to yell 'I don't speak English' in the Serbo-Croat I learned from a Bosnian former girlfriend.
But instead, he pulled out a large roll that appeared to be legitimate bills, peeled a 20 off the top, and asked me to go back into the store and buy him a pack of cigarettes.  He said he didn't have his ID.
I looked him square in the eye and said "No. I'm not going to help you smoke. Those things are killing you man.  You are a worthy human being and deserve to live out your full life. I'm not helping you cut it short."
His jaw dropped and he agreed with me.  He walked out to the street and away from the store.
I figure there's about a 10% chance that he really wanted cigarettes.
What scam was he trying to run?

You said almost verbatim what I would have said to the guy. I'm glad he took it well. Scam? Hmm.