I don't speak Italian.
The world outside of my head tells me that confidence is half the battle. You've heard it before, I know you have, the battle. Excuse that terrible pun, please. If that is how the cookie brightens some peoples day, then I'd say that I'm a fatty who is Ego Tripping at the Gates of Hell. Is this balance beam of life I'm standing on going to force me into the straightforward path of metaphorical cubicalism, tip me into the a pool of hungry card sharks, or sway me to the other side of actually getting some shit done?
Did that paragraph make sense to you?
Where my slippery slope of luck began. Perhaps that is a much better way to start this post.
...Sept. 5th, 2013, Port Angeles WA... A good friend said these words, "Don't give him a bottle of whiskey."
...Sept 6th, 2013, P.A. WA... A good friend had too much whiskey and got thrown into the slammer early on this morning. That sucked, but we did what we could and moved on with our morning. After an early round of disc golf, I left for Portland Oregon! There I would be visiting my friend Sean "Penguin" Page for an Animal Collective concert! It was a 4 hour drive from PA to Portland, a drive in which I took 4 shits. In my opinion, the beginning of the slippery slope of tainted luck.
As I was driving through Vancouver Wa, (15 miles from Portland) I notice a light on my dash. I've never seen this light and had no idea what it meant, I'm not really a car person so. With a quick glance over at my cars temperature I figured out what that light meant... That my car is about to burst into a dragons flames if I don't pull over and let it cool the fuck off. DAMN! So close to Portland and my 96' Buick Century Limited Edition (ONE BAD BITCH) decides it has to overheat and take a dump onto itself and me.
I pulled off onto the next exit and parked my car in a gas station parking lot to check my coolant because it had been slamming coolant like a Wisconsin college senior at Packer party with a keg. It was empty, so I purchased some to fill it up. DIDN'T WORK. Fuck, my extensive knowledge of cars has run out.
She still ran, o'course, so I started her up and parked her jabigass self in the Home Depot parking lot and sighed. Called my dad and with a quick run through of what happened I had figured out I was between a rock and blown head gasket. Well, dangnabit, I had an Animal Collective show and a best friend awaiting my timely arrival so no car trouble was going to stop me!
I called up the Master of Scrolls (that's Sean) and told him my dilemma, but I also told him my solution. "Sean, I blew a head gasket. I'm 15 miles out, the show starts in 3 hours. I've got my computer and bicycle. I'll see you at your place in about an hour!" With that, I went to 4 fast food places to get wifi, which none of them had... wasted about 25 minutes... cutting it close... I finally found the dreaded Starbucks and plugged myself into the complex coded world of the wide web. Hastily scribbled what seemed to be wrong directions and hopped onto my bike to CRUSH to the Penguins place.
Of course, I made it with minutes to spare. Water was drank, and we were off. The show magnificent! I mean, AC ended with Brothersport and Purple Bottle! That was only the beginning. We saw 3 free shows on Saturday. The Dodo's, The Thermals, and Sunny and the Sunsets. All of which were bonerjammin good. Then, to figure we hadn't seen enough music, we went to another show. We saw Jake Miller and the Bridge City Crooner's! A friend from high school, Jacob Miller, started this band and it is bonerjamtastic! If you ever find yourself in Portland, check them out! Here is their FB: https://www.facebook.com/jacobmillermusics .
Portland is great, YOU should go.
Basically, sometimes you have to run on tainted luck. I figured out my car only made it to Vancouver because I stopped 4 times to take a shit. Each stop resulting in cooling my engine enough so it wouldn't overheat until my next shit stop. Then, at last, I made it close enough that biking became feasible, because its Portland, right. So if your car is ever overheating, take a shit break and gain the taint of tainted luck.
If you care to know, my car is running fine after putting $1,000 into it. Big thanks to the Master of Scrolls, his sister Liz and her husband Zaki for all the help in my futile time of need. Without you guys, I would have smelled way worse come my flight back to Wisconsin.
Um, post and share and comment and or disregard this blog to whomever you so desire. Someone post one comment, I feel like I'm talking to myself! Thanks Ya'll.
Two cups of Joe and only one shit deep,
Joseph R.D. Michels
P.S. If anyone finds themselves on the corner of 312th St. and S. Pacific Highway between Tacoma and Seattle, please check and see if my car is still in the Wal-Mart parking lot. I did not want to pay $340 to park at an airport, so I left my car in the ghetto so as to test how slippery of a slope tainted luck can be...
Jacob Miller and the Bridge City Crooner's
Master of Scroll's and I, drinking in an elevator
Magic "Micheal Bay" Moment
I'd buy that
I think you can see what Sean and I did in downtown Portland inbetween shows...
Parking ramps, I'll drink to that
Sunny and the Sunsets
Terrible picture of The Thermals
Newest member of The Dodo's gettin down