Quad-Fest 2008

We all knew the day would come. The day that Gyuss decided a disease-infested-over-flooded-mile-wide river that flows from Minnesota to Louisiana would rip him from the annual gaming weekend that has come to be known as Quad-Fest! Luckily our "quad" was still intact with a REAL out-of-town bad ass! That's right... Pokiman rolled into town for a one night only extravaganza of gaming delight. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I should back up to Friday.

Friday was a day for the dynamic duo. And that day was filled with an abundance of margaritas. Margaritas, senoritas, and Golf! Top Golf to be precise. This year instead of a rousing game of Ultimate Frisbee we decided to play 5 rounds of the game of kings! Oh that's chess? Well then I guess it was the game of drunken Scotsman. Because Dagromm, and I decided to try out Top Golf. Essentially it is a two-story driving range with gigantic electronic targets all over the range. You sink up your bucket of micro-chipped golf balls with an account you open at the range. Then every time you hit one of your balls onto the range and hit one of the targets you get points for accuracy and distance. Points! That's right... points! It turns driving range practice into a game. A game where you don't have to haul your ass all over God's green earth. A game where all you have to do is sit at your table and order drinks from the beer girl that strolls by. Needless to say I won 4 out of 5 rounds and the whole day was awesome.

We then met up with Pokiman on Saturday morning for 15 hours of non-stop hot gaming action. We decided to break away from the monotony of Dagromm's house and move venues. Actually the fact that Dagromm is re carpeting his entire estate was the reason why we had to move venues. That and his wife no longer allows friends to come over after Dagromm showed up one night with a gang of Hells Angels he met at the bar in his local Bennigans. They said they needed a place to "lay low" for a night or two. Need I say more? It just so happened that my new office building has an entire floor that is one gi-mungus conference room with kitchenette. So we crashed my office and spread out our gear all over the room. We declared nuclear war, we slaughtered orcs and goblins in a dark underworld, we raced sports cars across the French countryside, we wagered on mythical titans in gladiatorial combat, and we ate ham and cheese sandwiches all day long. Glorious was every minute. I also believe that I won 4 out of 5 rounds on this day as well. But that was to be expected.

Rock Me!

The Space Between...

Everyone knows that The Quad is a tightly knit group. We share everything... and I do mean everything! But every so often we come across a divergence of opinion. Such cognitive dissonance is almost always followed by copious amounts of cursing and death threats. But who can argue with Jamie Presley?

We all know Jamie Presley right? You probably remember her from her famous role as Joy Turner in the critically acclaimed series My Name is Earl.


Loyal fans will have also marveled at her death defying performance as Tina Armstrong in the movie DOA: Dead or Alive.



And the most ardent of fans will remember her turn as Jill in the blockbuster comedy The Adventures of Joe Dirt.



But what you may not know is that this accomplished thespian and gymnast of unlimited talent and unquestionable taste is also a fan of the Dave Matthews Band.

You will note the excerpt taken from a Entertainment Weekly interview some years ago:

Didn't you recently shoot a Dave Matthews video? Yeah, one of those weekends! I worked until 12:30 at night, then got on a plane and flew all night to shoot it in Orlando. It's for ''The Space Between.'' I'm a huge Dave Matthews fan.



I invite all Quad members to commence with borrowing and making copies of all my Dave Matthews Band CD's.

Look Out! It's an Origin Story!!

I know Blog Country has wondered for years now how my off-spring came by their inter-web monikers of Lil' Magnum and Lil' Higgins. Some may believe it was random choice. Others might assume some secret code for a specific personality trait. I stand before you today to reveal the awful truth. Like the name of CyberD, their web-names were born out of a Quad moment.

It was the spring of 2004 when Dagromm, the illustrious Q, and I gathered for lunch at our favorite little whole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant. As usual I ordered enchiladas and a glass of ice (as I always bring my own soda to the table). Q and Dagromm rolled their eyes at my B.Y.O.B policy before ordering fajitas for two and a single milk shake and one curly straw.

As I finished my tasty plate of spicy enchiladas and the Q and Dags teased each other over the last strip of Mexican beef, the conversation turned to the upcoming birth of my fist son. At the time Mrs. Cyber and I hadn't decided on his name so Q and Dags pushed hard for something suitably manly for a Quad off-spring. Dags warned me about naming my son something like Ashley or Leonard, lest he be the object of bully-hatred his entire life. I then jokingly said that not all children can grow up to be bad ass like Tom Sellek. Q than asked if I was referring to Magnum P.I. Tom Selleck or Quigley Down Under Tom Selleck because the Quigley Sellek was a little gay.

Dags immediately chimed in with the bombastic opinion that I name my son Magnum. Specifically Magnum Philonious Ignatius or Magnum P.I. for short. I reminded them that if I insisted on such a name, my wife would likely shoot me in the face while I slept. But they decided that my decision didn't matter. My first born child would always be Lil' Magnum to them. As you can see in the photo, Dags was never more serious. He gave Lil' Mag this shirt the day he was born. My son has now fully embraced the persona and occasionally tests the quality and thickness of his ongoing mustache like in this picture.

The Quad tips our hat to you, Lil' Magnum!

Behind the Scenes

In keeping with a format that good ol' Dagromm started a few months back, I thought I would share a little behind the scenes action between me and The Q.

-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Date: Thursday September 20, 2007 11:35 AM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

Why the fuck will my comments not post on your blog? I've tried to comment like four times and none of them have registered!


-----Original Message-----
From: Q
Date: Thursday September 20, 2007 11:38 AM
To: CyberD
Subject: RE: comments

Fixed it

You were marked as spam. I blame Gus Bladder again for that


-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 12:03 PM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

I blame gus bladder for the price per barrel of gasoline being what it is today. Bastard!


-----Original Message-----
From: Q
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:11 PM
To: CyberD
Subject: RE: comments

Dude, just a heads up. Our Fantasy Football Team SUCKS!


-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:13 PM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

What are you talking about? We've got it made... just a little tweak here and there and we've made it... by the way... your blog is blocking my comments still!


-----Original Message-----
From: Q
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:14 PM
To: CyberD
Subject: RE: comments

No, I just hate you


-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:15 PM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

You better fix that shit or there's going to be hell to pay!


-----Original Message-----
From: Q
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:16 PM
To: CyberD
Subject: RE: comments

Smoke


-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:17 PM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

Don't even think about it.


-----Original Message-----
From: Q
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:18 PM
To: CyberD
Subject: RE: comments

My


-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:19 PM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

Don't you dare.


-----Original Message-----
From: Q
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:20 PM
To: CyberD
Subject: RE: comments

Pole

-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 3:21 PM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

Damn it! Reeeeeeally subtle, Q-dog.


-----Original Message-----
From: Q
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2007 4:12 PM
To: CyberD
Subject: RE: comments

Dude that is what I am known for. Well that and the stalking. Well those two and that indecent exposure thing. Whatever


-----Original Message-----
From: CyberD
Sent: Thursday, September 20, 2004 4:59 PM
To: Q
Subject: RE: comments

Good times, good times...

Where in the World is Dagromm?

Many of you have expressed genuine concern for the where abouts of one Dagromm Q. Flailbreath, otherwise known as Dags. There is much speculation going on over at The House of Dagromm as his usual string of postings has now completely ceased all together. As many of you know, The Crotch Wizards are a very tight group and we keep each other on speed-dial at all times. With Q in the hospital and Gyuss trapped inside the Big Monkey Comics back-room (doing God knows what), it was up to me to get down to the bottom of this.

With his busy new job, my first thought was that he had barricaded himself at his office so that's where I headed first. Much to my surprise I ran into Big Dirty pacing back and forth in the lobby. Apparently Big Dirty hadn't seen Dags in two weeks and Dirty had finally snapped. He did not greet me with his usual, "Hell yeah!" In fact he didn't greet me at all. He only continued his pacing back and forth, while ringing his hands together. After checking with reception I learned that he hadn't shown up to work in several days so I headed to his house.

When I got there the front door was ajar and his entire yard had been toilet papered. For a minute I thought perhaps his soccer team had played a practical joke on the old man but this theory quickly evaporated when I stepped inside to see none other than Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson. He was in the middle of the living room emptying an entire box of laundry detergent onto the carpet while muttering the phrase, "Payback is a bitch!"

The Rock noticed me when I walked in and he tossed the box of detergent over the back of his head and into the dinning room. The following conversation ensued:

Me: Hey The Rock. I haven't seen you in months.

The Rock: Oh yeah... I've been busy making money and sleeping with hot women.

Me: Yeah, I know what you mean.

The Rock: So what are you doing here?

Me: I guess I could ask you that same question.

The Rock: Oh, I just came by to give Dagromm that twenty dollars I owe him, but it doesn't look like he is home.

Me: So what's with the detergent?

The Rock: What detergent?

Me: (Pointing silently at the mound of powder on the floor)

The Rock: That was there when I got here.

Me: Okay, well I guess I better get going, The Rock.

The Rock: By the way, CyberD. How is The Quad?

Me: Huh? Oh you mean The Crotch Wizards.

The Rock: Right, I was just checking to see if there were any openings.

Me: Sorry, not at the moment.

The Rock: Yeah, that's cool. I got a big photo shoot in Cancun tomorrow anyway so it's not like I could join you guys for your next poker night... even if you were needing a fourth person to replace someone who might be missing.

Me: Right... well, good luck with the photo-shoot.

I exited the front door and headed home. I suppose the world may never know what happened to good ol' Dagromm.

Dream a Little Dream

I awoke this morning foggy headed and disoriented, not because of the fifth of Jack I drank last night while watching re-runs of Hawaii Five-O, but of the bizarre dream I had after falling asleep.

The dream started with an all too familiar opening sequence: Two members of The Crotch Wizards fighting over who gets shot-gun. In this case Dagromm was driving and The Q and I were arguing over who called it first. Gyuss was content with chuckling over the argument and chiming in a few inflammatory remarks here and there. The first thing that tipped me off that I was dreaming was that Dags wasn't driving his 1986 Ford Escort but a tricked out Cadillac Escalade.


We eventually headed for a black-tie dinner celebrating excellence in video game play. Apparently Q was being recognized for a lifetime achievement award. The funny thing was that none of us were wearing tuxedos. As might be expected, I was the best dressed in a burgundy coat with brown corduroy pants and paisley tie. Dags was wearing a Fila jersey, Gyuss was wearing a pair of mechanic's overalls, and the man of the hour was dressed like Thelma from Scooby Do.

Shortly after entering the main dinning hall for dinner, I found myself being "chatted up" by none other than Maureen McCormick, formerly Marsha from the Brady Bunch. It was obvious that she was diggin' what I was bringgin' so I played along for a little while. Eventually I had to cast her aside because nature called.

After draining the lizard I returned to the dinning room to find that two of my closest high school friends had purchased a table at the event. We visited for some time and I planned to ditch the rest of The Quad but my two old friends were about to leave the party and go to the gym. They told me they had a pretty serious work-out regime and today was the day they were to exercise their glutes.

Feeling a little uncomfortable, I ditched them and looked around to see if Q had received his award yet. Much to my surprise the night had wained and the event was already over. I began to worry that The Crotch Team left without me. They can be a jealous lot and I was afraid they may of spotted me with either Maureen or my old high school friends. I exited the dinning hall and found myself in Time Square. There was some news coverage that Dags, G, and Q had finally been arrested for crimes against humanity and I was watching it all unfold on screen. The funny thing is I worried more about finding a way home than what was to happen to my dear friends behind bars when they met their bunk mates.

Luckily my father showed up and offered me a ride home. He said that my mother had been worried sick about me because it was getting late I hadn't called home. We then decided to stop by the old creek, near my childhood home, to catch a few rainbow trout before heading back for ice cream.

Weird huh?

Greater than the sum of the parts... and the parts are pretty damn good.

Everyone should have friends like these. Quad weekend 2007 was an event to remember. Even Pokiman came up for the festivities and it wouldn't have been the same without him. Each of us brings a unique aspect to the group that is sadly missing when one of us isn't there. How is it possible for five guys, who collectively see each other once a year, to get together and pick up where we left off without skipping a beat?

It really is like slipping back in time to a place where life was much simpler, important things had no meaning, and meaningless things were of paramount importance. I haven't laughed like that in... well... a year! I'll be the first to admit that the weekend was filled with all manner of sophomoric humor, but it is the familiarity with which we deliver our punch lines, react to each other's jokes, and drift on to the next one-liner that is so appealing. I seriously think there were a couple of times that we hardly had to say a word... a simple glance would suffice and we were all falling out of our chairs.

Some may ask if it was anything more than just one big time-waste. I'll tell you that it wouldn't have been the same if it was anything else. Lord knows this isn't Oprah's book club. What I find so fascinating is how our interests continue to mirror each other, even when so many years have passed by. Did we become friends way back then because we were of such similar spirit, or did the friendship of our youth help to mold us into the people we are today? Perhaps it is a little bit of both.

I thought about coming up with a great piece of comedy to capture the essence of this weekend with my friends, but I don't think it would have done justice to how important these guys are to me. So I'll take a moment and risk being serious to simply say that I had a blast with Dagromm, Gyuss, Pokiman, and Q. It was nothing but pure undiluted fun to be together again.

Thanks to Dagromm for hosting the event, to Gyuss for shelling out mad-cash in order to travel great distances, to Pokiman for freeing up his usual weekend work obligations, and to Q for showing up with clothes on.

See you next summer for Quad weekend 2008!

Manly Men doing Manly Things

While The Quad is many things, we aren't everything. I cannot deny the fact that we are strong, handsome, powerful, and potent... but we are NOT mechanics. This little trip down memory lane takes us all the way back to the turn of the millennium.

It was the summer of 2000 and it had been a few years since Gyuss had moved away. Dagromm and I had already begun our love affair with Q and the three of us were sitting around Ye Old Shop that Dagromm managed. This particular afternoon Dagromm was complaining about car trouble... a fairly common complaint for him in those days.

That day it was decided that an alternator for a 1995 Pontiac Grand Am should be easy to fix. So we later met at the Auto Zone, Dags purchased an alternator, and we struck out for the broken down vehicle. It was parked in a small town at a busy gas station of truckers and the like. Gyuss even called in to participate via cell phone. As we walked across the glistening asphalt in the scorching Texas heat you could have set our stride to the music of George Baker's Little Green Bag.

We arrived at the front of the Pontiac just as a wind whipped up and sent our flowing locks swirling across our face. I planted my foot on the front bumper, striking a pose, while Q thrust his fist down on the hood, popping it open. Dagromm, in turn brandished his wrench high over head as he slammed the new alternator down on top of the engine block. We were ready to commence with auto repair!

At first things rolled pretty damn well. We found the location of the old alternator in mere seconds and managed to unhook a belt that obstructed our access to it. It wasn't long before we removed the defunct part and replaced it with the new one. This was the home stretch and it looked as if we get out of there in under an hour. That's when we realized that we had no freaking clue how to put the belt back on. It had so much tension when attached that there was no way one could simply force it... but we tried. After another hour of massive grunting, muscle ache, and buckets of perspiration we were no closer to our objective.

Q took a frustrated step back, lifted his hands into the sky and cursed the gods of car-repair. Dagromm hung his head in shame as tears streamed down his face and I (in spite of my stoic appearance) feared all was lost. It was at this point that Gyuss' call conveniently dropped. Just then, in a moment of clarity my gaze landed upon a gangly trucker about to climb into his rig and leave the gas station for the open road. I quickly flagged down the salty highwayman and requested his assistance. This was our last chance of being able to say we achieved the impossible. He approached the car and pointed out what we already knew - that there was a tension rod underneath the manifold. It was the very thing we had been struggling to manipulate for the last hour. Little did we know, you needed to be a contortionist in order to do this successfully. Luckily this trucker had spent three years with The Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus. He cranked down on the rod and we were back in business.

Victory at last! Q did a celebratory dance that he learned from a Native American witch doctor during his peyote phase, while Dagromm and I tested out the new alternator. As the engine turned over and hummed with glee, a chorus of angels began singing the opening to Carl Orff's Carmina Burana! It was truly a magical moment and we drove off into the sunset.

Our Essence

There has been some recent discussion on the qualities that define what it means to be "Quad-like". In an effort to provide the people with an answer to the essence of this seemingly indefinable group, I submit to you all the evidence you will ever need.




As defined by the Smithsonian Museum of Man History:

Friendship

I have to admit that I knew it was only a matter of time for Dags, Q, and Gyuss to see the error of their ways. My agent told me that the phone had been ringing non-stop all week. To be honest I probably would have rejected the gesture if it wasn't for the gift basket of assorted cold-cuts. That was a nice touch. I digress. The upshot of this entire thing is that The Quad just isn't The Quad without me and they humbly asked me to re-take my rightful place in the group. I know we've had our differences but we are putting the past behind us (even though they started it).

Just to make sure there were no hard feelings I checked in with The Rock. Little did The Quad know, but we have each other on speed-dial. All he said was to "watch out for the jello, and that he was moving to Singapore just to get some distance." I'm not sure what that means but I know I'll find out soon enough.

Now... as a tribute I'd like to share one of my most favorite songs from those rock-ballad-all-stars... Tenacious D.



"Oh Happy Day!"

The Birthday Bonanza Bash Buffet - Part 3

We kicked this thing off with a bang on my birthday and we're wrapping it up on Q's birthday so for your reading enjoyment we present to you this Birthday Adventure: The Radio-Phonic Version.

“Pull over! Mango break!”

“What? It’s my damn birthday! I’ll do what I want to!”

“CyberD!”

“Q, show them what you’ve got!”

“Los Policia, Los Policia!”

“How do you like them apples?”

“This must be heaven.”

“Jackpot.”

“It’s our birthday!”

“Wanna fly?”

“No thanks, I’m already soaring!”

“Fair enough,”

“FIESTA!”

“Come On!”

“Dude, they want you to insert one of your US citizen babies inside of the barmaid”.

“With pleasure!”

“You’re so lucky, CyberD!”

“You’re next!”

“My heroes!”

“Get in, boys, we’re going home!”

“Damn! I forgot my Mangos!”

Q's Love Affair with Ernest or The Tijuana Birthday Bonanza - Part 2

Q appeared hesitant at first and I must admit that seeing Q in his “birthday suit” (and me in mine) wasn’t something I would have ever expected to behold in my lifetime. I searched for some semblance of reason as I heard the barmaid’s muffled voice talking to, what I could only assume was a host of sexy senoritas on the other side of the door. As if reading each other’s minds, we blurted out, “It’s our birthday!” at the top of our lungs before ripping off our clothes. Q struggled with his socks as he spun around in a circle attempting to unleash the damn thing from his ankle, while I emptied the last vestiges of the Dos Equis still clutched in my right hand.

I looked over at the naked glistening body of Q and I was thankful that my drunken stooper would not allow me to remember this come tomorrow. Q’s sock still dangled off the end of his foot as he reached his hand out and offered me some of the before mentioned “party dust.”

“Wanna fly?” he asked me. “No thanks,” I responded, “I’m already soaring!” as I lifted my bottle in tribute to Q’s partying ways. “Fair enough,” Q responded before bending over and grabbing his wrinkled up leopard print thong underwear and strapped it onto his head like a king’s crown.

It was at that moment that the barmaid returned to the room followed by two very professional looking women. It was unexpected that they both reminded me of my Uncle Carl and unfortunate that they brought a burro into the room with them. They barely had the time to say a single word before Q and I had bolted from the brothel. The faint sound of their celebratory mantra, “FIESTA!” still lingered in my ears.

*******************************************************

We ran as fast as humanly possible to our rental car. CyberD tried to slide across the hood ala Dukes of Hazzard but his sweaty skin stuck to it the moment contact was made. There was no time for me to laugh, though I wanted to really hard. CyberD gathered himself and continued to his side of the car. CyberD turned the key but nothing happened. “Come On!” I screamed. He kept trying but nothing was happening.

By this time the gaggle of people had gathered around us. The two women and the donkey were there as well as CyberD’s barmaid. They told us to get out of the car immediately. Once we were standing, they yelled for one of us to pleasure the donkey. I was in shock and CyberD was extremely toasted. I leaned over to him and said “dude they want you to insert one of your US citizen babies inside of the barmaid”. CyberD immediately took a step forward and yelled, “With pleasure!”

The enforcement officials pulled out their guns and led CyberD to the donkey. He looked at me frantically. I told him that I might have misunderstood and shrugged my shoulders.

*****************************************************

Either the frosty spirits were getting to me or the local militia was leading me away from the kind-hearted barmaid and over to the flea-infested donkey. I could hear Q yell over the crowd, “You’re so lucky, CyberD!” I began to struggle as I feared the worst, but it was to no avail. “You’re next!” I spewed back at him. This surely would have been the end for both of us but little did we know, Q’s court ordered electronic ankle bracelet went off the minute we crossed the border. I had forgotten about that stint Q spent in the pen and was reminded of the time he got that giant tattoo of Jesus on his back while bunking with a tattoo artist named Leopold.

The sound of the chopper came out of nowhere as a sleek black helicopter emerged over the tree line. Q and I both knew that Airwolf had been decommissioned from the military back in the late 80’s. What we didn’t know was that it had since been employed by the local fuzz for just such an occasion. As the bird touched down, it sent the locals scattering in all directions. Q and I ran towards our salvation with one more surprise. As the cockpit opened it was none other than Jan Michael Vincent and Ernest Borgnine at the helm! “My heroes!” Q screamed like a little school girl.

“Get in, boys,” Ernest barked, “We’re going home!” We both dive into the chopper and strap ourselves in as it takes flight, leaving the forlorn donkey behind. I am exhausted from the entire experience and I slump into my seat with relief. Just as I begin to drift off I hear Q blurt out in frustration.

“Damn! I forgot my Mangos!”

Q's Mango Explosion or CyberD and Q's Birthday Trip to Tijuana!

Q promised me that the border patrol wouldn’t be a problem. If you don’t count the rectal exam I suppose he was telling the truth. They did search the car but luckily we had already taken all those flea infested puppies out of the trunk of the rental and dropped them off at the local Home Depot. They had a half-price sale going on wood-chippers. Nevertheless, my knuckles are white with fear… well, either fear or the lack of blood supply to my extremities from having Q’s head in my lap all the way from Los Angeles down Highway 5. Hearing the mariachi music out the window after crossing the border into Tijuana, Q pops his head up and screams at the top of his lungs, “Pull over! Mango break!”

I jerk the wheel hard and a storm of gravel and dust fly up from the back bumper as we come to a grinding halt next to a string of road-side vendors. An elderly man, weighing in at no more than 90lbs, hobbled over to the passenger side door with a handful of wooden marionettes. Q either didn’t see him or didn’t care. He swung the car door open wide, colliding with the geriatric merchant, sending him flying into a chicken coop. Feathers plumed into the air like a mushroom cloud over Hiroshima. I glare at Q as I get out of the car and walk over to the fruit stand selling 12 mangoes for one dollar. Q looks at me indignantly and says, “What? It’s my damn birthday! I’ll do what I want to!”

**********************************************************

I purchase 24 mangoes and head back the rental car. As I am walking back to the car I noticed that CyberD had hit an old man when he pulled over for fruit. I turn back to let him know what he had done but he is nowhere to be seen. I ask the shop keep where ‘mi amigo’ went and all I got was a blank stare. So I asked him louder. He pointed down the alley way behind his cart of tropical fruit.

I secure my mangoes in the cooler by getting rid of the empty Dos Equis bottles that CyberD had left. I headed down the dark and foul smelling path. Every once in a while I yell out “CyberD!” but I don’t get a response. I turned to look in one of the windows and there he was at the bar. I mosey in – attempt to get CyberD away from the bar, but he yells at me causing a scene – he then directs the bouncer to me. I quietly walk outside and get my ass kicked by three rather large tattooed gentlemen, while CyberD watched and laughed. Have I mentioned that CyberD is an angry drunk? Well, he is and he was enjoying this way too much.

*********************************************************

As I chat up the young barmaid and down another frosty beverage, I laugh at her jokes uproariously even though I don’t understand a word she says. At that very moment I notice that Q is getting his ass kicked by some thugs. I don’t know what he did to deserve it but it must have been something awful. Something tells me these men don’t like Mango. But perhaps they like that special “party dust” that Q was flashing around town in the San Diego strip clubs. I yell, “Q, show them what you’ve got!” He looks at me strangely through blood soaked eyes and he begins to feverishly unbutton his pants.

This only seems to anger them even more as they begin grabbing bar-stools and shatter them into pieces before picking up the wooden legs. I think fast and dive in front of them while flashing a plastic badge that Q got out of his cracker-jack box no more than thirty minutes ago. Luckily I insisted on keeping it because he was going to throw it out the window. I hate litter. I scream over Q’s tears, “Los Policia, Los Policia!” They drop the stick and turn to run but Q is fast and he chucks several full Dos Equis bottles at them. Q nails each one on the back of the head, knocking them out cold. Eat your heart out Nolan Ryan. I yell at Q for being so wasteful but he is on a roll now. He yells, “How do you like them apples?” as he does a victory dance around the bar that includes thrusting his pelvis into the air and performing what can only be described as an x-rated version of the funky chicken.

I suggest we make a run for it and for the first time in our lives Q agrees with me on something. We begin to exit the bar and head for the car but the barmaid cautions us. She points out the window and we see that our rental car has gotten the attention of the border patrol. The barmaid insists on helping us. I guess I made an impression. It looks like The D has still got it when it counts!

*********************************************************

With my limited Spanish speaking/understanding ability the barmaid says that it will be three thousand US dollars for the both of us. CyberD gladly agrees to her fee and follows her out the back door. I am stunned that he would part with that kind of cash so easily, but hey this is ‘Vacation’D. I hurry to catch up so that I don’t get lost again in the maze of alleyways and drunken street people, or as CyberD calls them ‘living urinals’. We come up to a building with a metal door. The woman knocks three times and a metal hatch opens up. The woman says something very quickly and the door opens. She signals for us to come inside, once again I am hesitant but I proceed anyway.

Once inside I notice a vast array of erotic toys and resin molds of men’s and women’s private parts. I look at CyberD and he looks at me. He starts to speak but I stop him, touching my fingers to his lips. I already knew what he was thinking. “This must be heaven.”

The woman leads us to a back room. She locks the door behind us and turns on the light. We were in a hotel like bedroom. I tap CyberD on the shoulder and tell him that I think the barmaid is a prostitute. He looks back at me and slurs, “Jackpot”.

To Be Continued...

Friday Challenge Remix

There's no pleasing some people. I got off the phone with Dagromm this weekend and he just couldn't accept the fact that Will Ferrell in full on soccer regalia suited him perfectly!

"How come everyone else got a 'bad-ass' photo and I get Will Ferrell?"

"What's up with Will Ferrell?"

"But why Will Ferrell!?!?"

...and on, and on, and on...

I never heard the end of it. Well it just so happens that I did make a mistake in my Quad photo challenge, because I failed to include the illustrious Pokiman. He may have come late to blog-country, but he is not to be forgotten. Therefore, I've included a great depiction of everyone's favorite B-horror-movie-loving, prom-attending, bookstore-working, blogger.

Pokiman


Oh yeah, and a picture to represent Dagromm's soccer loving ways. Will you please stop calling now, Dags?

Dagromm Remix


But I still like this better...

Really Dagromm

Friday Challenge

This is another great idea from the mind of Gyuss. I don't think I've got the kind of relationship with any other blogger where I would feel comfortable taking a crack at a perceived image... so I'll just roast The Quad!

Here's one possible vantage of how we see each other.

The Q


Gyuss


Dagromm


Me (of course)

Lovingly for Gyuss and Q

I was chatting with Q on the phone the other day and he revealed to me that he has a full length mirror on his bathroom door. This in and of itself is not a problem and I thought little of it. But then Q went on to confess that his biggest regret in life was strategically placing the mirror so that he can view himself in all his glory while doing the most unholy of acts on the crapper. This disturbed me greatly and I did not believe him at first.

Why in the name of all that is sweet and clean on this precious earth would anyone want to watch themselves in that most disgusting state? Q admitted that it was an innocent mistake and one he didn't realize he was making at the time. However there is still that lingering question in my mind as to why he never rectified the situation.

Picture this:

You finish a tasty meal of Beef Wellington and frito-chili-pie and decide that a delicious meal like this isn't complete until you've really made room for it in your lower intestines. You push away from the chair and head down the hall towards the "throne-room." As you prepare for the "slow burn" you grab a copy of the latest Texas Monthly and flip to the classifieds for a little light reading. At first you're engrossed in the delicate writing of Don Gaylord's article on Bluebonnets but inevitably nature demands your undivided attention. Your face turns serious and your toes curl as you grip the towel rack and marshal all you energy towards the singular event that occupies your every thought.

And it's in that moment of clenched anguish that you look up and lock eyes with your own reflection in the most gruesome, jaw-dropping, and horror-filled sight you have ever had the displeasure of seeing your own body performing.

That would quite literally shock the shit out of me. Perhaps that is the real reason why Q has never taken down that offense of a mirror.

*shudder*

Riding High

A recent article by the illustrious Q got me thinking about a now infamous experience he and I shared over the course of a lunch hour back in the year 2000 (please read the last phrase like that dude from the Conan O'Brien Show).

Q and I often went to grab a bite while he was working in my office. This particular time we took my Sa-Wank company car - a powder blue Ford Taurus, Ching! There is this little burger dive in an old part of town that we enjoyed visiting, only it had us roll through a moderately sketchy neighborhood.

This particular time we were headed back to campus and I slowly pulled up to a stop-sign next to a 7-eleven. As I did this I could see a young man riding a bicycle down the intersecting street. Instead of going through the intersection (where he would have had the right of way) he chose to cut across the 7-eleven lot, and in doing so slammed into the passenger side of my car! Q screamed like a six-year-old girl and dove his head into my lap as the man's body buckled in half, with arms and torso sprawling across the hood of my car and legs flailing against Q's window. His momentum (now displaced by the powder-blue sex-machine) rolled down the right side of the vehicle along with the bicycle, leaving a long scratches and a very unattractive streak from his tennis shoes.

I did what any mild mannered driver sitting at a dead freakin' stop would do. I pulled Q's head out of my crotch, yelled "son of a bitch!" and jumped out of my car. The guy had popped up from behind my back-right tire, his long blond mass of hair swishing from side to side in a disheveled mess. He was probably in his mid thirties, wore a sleeveless Iron Maiden t-shirt and cut-off blue jeans.

FYI - Cut off blue jeans are always a bad sign!

He rubbed his three day old stubble as he groaned and looked over at me. The following conversation ensued.

Me: What the hell do you think you're doing?

Blondie: Dude, I've never been hit by a car before.

Me: You mean you've never HIT a car before. I was at a dead stop, a-hole.

Blondie: Yeah, man... I'm sorry about that. You like came out of no-where.

Me: I was sitting at the stop sign. (By this time I've walked around the car and seen that he's knocked my side mirror completely off). Look at the damage to my car.

Blondie: Yeah, man.

Q: (to me) Do you think he's okay?

Me: Oh yeah, are you okay?

Blondie: Yeah, I think I'm okay. Thanks for asking (Keep in mind, he's bleeding all over the back of my car as he turns to pick up his busted bike and begins to walk away).

Me: Hold up, Tex. This is a company car. I've got to call the police and file a report.

Blondie: What?

Me: You need to stay here while I call the police.

Blondie: The cops?

Me: Yes.

Blondie: Yeah, I gotta go home and grab my wallet. I just live down the street but I'll be right back.

Me: Listen. You do what you want, but I'm calling the police. You say you're coming back... that's on you.

Blondie: Okay... see you in just a second.

I go into the 7-eleven and the clerk says, "Man, that guy is not coming back."

Me: Don't I know it.

Two weeks and $780 later I get the Taurus back as good as new. Message to the kids: Don't do drugs.

The Quartet of Quartetness

Recently my dear friend Q was asked about how the Gyuss, Q, Dagromm, Cyberman relationship began and if there was a blog-bio on the subject. This interested blogger must have searched high and low for such a story and was saddened to realize that one could not be found. For this reason, and for others (namely to apologize to all my tender-hearted family members who dare to read the comments section of my blog and are stunned by the R-rated comments) I have decided to chronicle the story of this illustrious quartet - of which I am a humble (and most important) member.

The year was 1992 and I was just a young cyber-lad heading off to college. Like many, I was nervous about new friendships. Little did I know that 14 years later I would still be in regular contact with my freshman roommate. Gyuss and I couldn't have been more opposite when we started out. Aside from the general guy stuff like video-games, girls, and action movies, we were completely different people. Gyuss is known for his amazing chameleon like personality so he put his best foot forward when dealing with me and I was just happy to room with a guy that wasn't going to get drunk and puke on my bed every weekend. What formed from this unlikely pairing was a friendship that has stood the test of time. There have been some lean years recently with four states separating us, but that tends to happen with friendships. But when you've seen another man naked, watched him get arrested, witnessed the courtship with his future wife, witness his defection from one political party to another, and taken him to the hospital (like Gyuss and I have with each other) geographical distance is just a minor obstacle.

That same year we met Dagromm. I can't remember if Gyuss or I met Dagromm first but the resulting run-in provided an opportunity for Dags and I to realize we shared a common creative streak. This creative streak turned into an incredibly honest and deep friendship. During our four years in college we embarked on a two year project, during that time we laughed until tears rolled down our cheeks, we argued until one might think a punch would be thrown, and we have celebrated an undertaking that we still reminisce to this day. It is also the part of the spark for Dagromm's blog "handle" and an inside joke to me Gyuss.

Finally there was Q. One year after school I got a job back at my old college. It was good times because I had just married my wife, and gotten back in touch with Dagromm who was living in the college town. Q was just a boy when Dagromm and I first met him. Dags met him first, since Q was a regular patron in the store that Dags managed. When Dags told me about this wide-eyed-lad, and said he would have fit in greatly with our friendship circle in college, I was skeptical. Gyuss, Dags, myself, and handful of other college friends had an incredible friendship and I found it hard to believe Dagromm's claim. Much to my surprise, Q proved to be all that and more. Smart and funny with a touch of the bizarre, Q shocked and amazed us at every turn. Over time, each of us developed our own favorite Q story. Mine is not fit for blogger-country. But needless to say, he fits in just fine. Eventually Gyuss had an opportunity to meet up with the infamous Q and not surprisingly that friendship has blossomed. Now Q has turned into a twisted and depraved human being and I am very glad I got to know him when I did.

With three of us living two hours or more away from each other and Gyuss living across the continent, we have discovered blogging as a way to keep in touch in the most typical guy fashion. We talk about stupid stuff that has absolutely no importance in our lives other than to get laughs from each other! One can only surmise how this illustrious quartet will transform over the years and what greatness will come from it. Only time and historians will be able to tell.

Old Friends - Good Times

So Gyuss came into town this weekend for a visit. Dagromm and I don't have much free time but when an old college buddy comes through town it's kind of like the "get out of jail free" card in monopoly. Whatever is going on in our lives, we are allowed to drop it and hang-out for the duration of Gyuss' visit. Hmmmm, perhaps "get out of jail free" isn't exactly the analogy I was going for, but you get the idea. The Q is always up for a little gaming fun so we could count on him to drive into the metroplex and he did. The big surprise was another old college buddy, hearing that Gyuss was flying in, decided to come up for the weekend as well. For lack of an alias, I'll call him Thrud.

Thrud, Gyuss, Dagromm, and I haven't all been in the same place at the same time in probably seven years, so the weekend approached with much anticipation. With these once-a-decade type gatherings, your eyes can be bigger than your stomach. You want to recreate the old days and do as many of the different activities that you used to do. But more often than not, you can never quite squeeze all the fun out of the weekend and time gets away from you. For some reason, this visit proved to be everything we had hoped it could be... or at least I had hoped it could be. I do think we could fill up ten weekends full of fun if we had it, but I do believe everyone enjoyed themselves and captured a bit of that old magic that has given us such fond memories over the years.



True to form, Q fit right in, as if he was right there with us during our college years. Dagromm made great ribs, and Gyuss brought along a great new game. And the simple fact that Thrud was in the house made the weekend complete. Game playing, trash talking, and junk food eating was the order of the day.



What was truly the biggest surprise to me was that my son (who is turning two years old this September) was a very well behaved boy. My wife works on Saturdays so a large portion of the day was spent with him playing with Dagromm's older kids. I didn't think it was going to go well, since he has historically been very clingy to his parents when he is in a new place. It was not the case. My son was running around the house having a great time, which meant that I was able to hang out and have a great time.

Too bad those gatherings cant' happen more often. I think Blogger has been truly great for us, since it has allowed us to recreate some of that on an ongoing basis. In fact, (if I'm not mistaken) our new blogs may have been the impetus for the visit in the first place. So thank you blogger, thank you very much. Now all we need to do is get Thrud on-line.