Snowboard for Sale

With any luck, my next blog post will be to inform you readers (the many thousands of you) what exotic place Jen and I will be moving to next fall. On Thursday (happy Groundhogs day in advance) we will go to the job fair in exciting Iowa and hopefully secure a foreign teaching job by Saturday.

What is Vegas saying about our chances? Most bookies are leaning towards Manila in the Philippines, although Nairobi (Kenya), Bangkok (Thailand), and Shanghai (China) have recently emerged as outside contenders. Curacao (small Caribbean island) has slipped in the rankings as of late, although it is still on the table. South Korea, which looked great in the pre-season, has since dropped completely out of contention. Myanmar and the Pacific island of Rota have suffered similar fates to S. Korea. Of course, there are over 150 schools at the job fair, and an unknown competitor could always emerge.

The only sure thing is that any place we move will have a warmer climate than Denver, and my snowboard will not be needed. (It appears that humans have cleverly located 90% of their population in tropical/subtropical locations). Thus, after this winter, the snowboard is available to the highest bidder. Be warned however that my mad-skills on the board are not for sale.

The Talent Show

Wow! My high school just had a talent show open to faculty and students. and.............I got second place! I did a solo routine, in which I wasn't sure how the crowd would react, but it turns out they loved it. The good news for you, although somewhat embarrasing for me, is that it was captured on video. You'll notice that my school has become much more diverse this year, and you may even recognize my principal emceeing the show. He has done some public speaking nationally.

video of Ringo in the talent show

As awesome as that was, wait till you see the winners.

First place winners

Casa Bonita

Casa Bonita. If you didn’t hear about it on South Park, you’re about to now.

Friday was my friend Allyson’s birthday. It was discovered that almost none of my friends, Allyson included, had ever been to Casa Bonita. If you live in Colorado for 6 years without ever going, you are shot, or deported to Kansas. So we all went. We also went because Casa Bonita is awesome. I’ll explain.

So will the pics. Which is all you really care about. You picture whores.

Casa Bonita Pics!

So as one drives west of downtown Denver on Colfax, you see more and more signs written in Espanol, and you think, “I bet I could get some good authentic Mexican food around here.” And then you see a giant pink tower in adobe with lights, fountains, and electric burros, and you think “maybe not.”

Jenny and I (Casa Bonita veterans) led our fearful friends through the winding Six-Flags type line to order our delectable Mexican cuisine. The choices were mind-boggling, but the cleverly constructed maze of railings gave us plenty of time to choose the perfect Mexican combo before the ride, or experience, began. Mere minutes after ordering, our meals came magically rolling out of an adobe window as if they were conjured out of thin air! We then carried our steaming trays into a truly magical land.

There are 3 stories of glory. All eyes are drawn towards the central stony waterfall, which falls 50 ft to a shimmering palm laden pool. The top of the waterfall is bedecked by a small stage for vaudeville style entertainment. The entire grotto/waterfall is cleverly constructed with multiple perches and vines for the skilled cliff divers to dangerously plunge from into the watery depths. Amazing! Yet there is so much more to see.

When we entered the wonderland, I had to physically pull Jen away from the sweet sounds of the live Mariachi band because of the enticing aromas coming from my meal. As we dined, it was touching to see tears of nostalgia welling up in Jill’s eyes as she remembered the time her husband Chad proposed to her just two tables away from where we sat. And now their toddler son, Kieran was wide-eyed and captivated by the myriad of sights, sounds, and smells.

We ate quickly so we could show the youngster the stage show. A bold explorer had captured a savage native near the waterfall and was showing the prize off to a beautiful damsel. Dramatically the fiendish savage escaped! We held our breath as he ran right past our table! Fortunately, the brave explorer chased the savage off the third floor stage into the chilly pool below. Bravo!

With the addition of my roommates Andrew and Zola, we felt brave enough to explore Black Bart’s Cave. It was dark and treacherous, with booby-traps, dragons, and glowing crystals. Zola trembled with fear, but the bravery of young Kieran steadied our hearts and we pressed on. Our spirits lightened as we exited, for there at the end of the cave was a puppet show! And after the puppet show, a piñata breaking! Could it get any better?

Yes! For desert, we played ski-ball, and observed countless youngsters get their first taste of the world of gambling. How the tickets flowed! We played with inspiration, knowing we played not for ourselves but for the birthday girl, Allyson. And our efforts did not go unrewarded. The thousands of tickets we won were then exchanged for Allyson’s Casa Bonita Coasters and Pirate Eye-Patches for the ladies! Yarrrrggghhhhh!! Excellent booty! And then, the skill of the lovely ladies was then noticed, as they were all made proud members of the Casa Bonita Diving Team, and given T-shirts to show off there new team status.

The diving team then continued to the pubs, and then we all sledded down the stairs. The end.

By the Power of Gayskull!

Wow, wow, wow. Please see this site if you would like to hear Prince Adam talk about his friend "Cringer-pants". He-Man even sings, so does Skeletor. (cut and paste this link)

http://homepage.mac.com/lennier/SA/fsp_101.mov

Then I was told that He-Man's singing career briefly had an off broadway performance. Read about that here! (you have to cut and paste again)

http://www.he-man.org/site_sects/special_features/editorials/facetoface.shtml


Special thanks to Jim and Greg for finding these gems

How to Be Popular

For years I wondered how I could become more popular. I read self-help books, I built a crazy-go-nuts party deck, I even went to KC bars with Andre (he seemed very popular, even almost ran for Congress). But nothing worked. Then I figured out the secret, which I will share with you now.

I moved someplace awesome. Living in Colorado has caused my popularity to soar off the charts. In the one and a half years since I’ve lived here, I’ve received more visits than OJ’s mom. I’ve been visited by Ayo, Gants, OJ, OJ’s mom, both my brothers and one sister-in-law, Kevin, Casey, Pickles, Marika, John (of the Litten variety), Avanti, Lance (Delicious Pancakes), Nick, Knopps, and others who hate me now because I forgot to drop their name.

Now I make no false claims about their reasons for visiting. In fact, I’m pretty sure that if I lived in Detroit, you all would probably not even be reading this right now, because you would not even be my friend. Unless I lived in 8 mile. And was a rapper.

I’m certainly taking this popularity idea into account whilst searching for jobs overseas. For example, there’s a school on the paradise-like Caribbean Island of Curacao that wants me to teach Beginning Biology, Animal Husbandry, and Creationism to political prisoners. This would obviously be a less-than-ideal job, but think how much you all would like me if I lived there.

Presently, I’m so popular that in just 48 short the Northern Contingency of the All-Star Drinking Team will be arriving in Denver, and then heading to altitude for snowboarding and skiing mayhem. So look for an awesome post weekend blog posting, and then play the fun game of cross-checking the blogs of myself, Ayo, and Gants to see who’s making shit up.

All Star Perfecto in an International Post?

Greetings all,
Whilst this entry bears no belligerence, clever antics, or amusing pics, it hopefully makes up for that by containing actual information, that most of my friends find interesting. At least people ask me about it frequently, so I thought it would be blog-worthy.

There is a good probability that after this school year, myself and Jen will be moving overseas to teach for at least a couple of years. I don’t know where yet, but I’m hoping for Southeast Asia or southern Africa.

Here’s how the deal works. There are lots of private American style schools (not Department of Defense schools) around the world that employ a lot of International teachers. The schools are taught in English, so I’d be able to continue teaching physics and chemistry. They offer two-year contracts and often provide housing, move you out there, provide benefits, etc. The students are often wealthy; some are US citizens, some are European, and some are from the host country.

How do I find such an awesome gig? There’s a big-ass job fair at the University of Northern Iowa (a metropolis known for being a hub of international culture) in early February with over a hundred schools attending. The schools usually interview and hire within that weekend. Jen and I will interview as a team, which means they’ll need to have jobs for both of us. This limits us a little, but I think we’ll still find something pretty boss.

I have so far talked or e-mailed with schools in the Philippines, South Korea, Marianna Islands, Kuwait City, and Vietnam that seem to have jobs for us. I’m definitely avoiding crazy-Christian schools and not overly hyped about the mid-east, but pretty much open to anyplace else.

So if all goes well, look for an excited blog entry in February about my new overseas job and future home.

I promise belligerence and antics in the next entry.

He-Man vs. Skeletor

This is a picture of my He-Man vs. Skeletor t-shirt. It is probably the best gift I have ever received and probably ever will receive. Jen gets MVP award for giving it to me.

I think I know why He-Man is Master of the Universe. It is because he has muscles that normal mortals don’t even have. I mean look at the freaking picture. He doesn’t even have a knee cap. He has a “knee muscle”. For the record, even Skeletor could kick the ass of Mr. Universe.

Besides Hulk Hogan, I think He-Man is the most bad-ass character from my childhood. I wish those two had been a tag-team.

I could have on a $2000 Armani suit, and I would not get half the compliments I get from wearing that t-shirt around town. People look at my chest, and they automatically like me. Now I know why females with great breasts are always so happy.

Ringo's Resolution for 2006

If you don't care to read, or can't read, just go right to the pics.
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My new year's resolution is more posts for 2006. I know this seems as likely as Gants running for office on the Republican ticket, but i'm saying there's a chance.

New Year's was awesome. Here's how it broke down.

My Disney chum Nick and our Canuk friend Dave rolled into Denver. A sizable group decided (over several PBR's) that to hell with amatuer night New Year's at the bars. We would bring the people to us. The people also decided that we needed to rent a karaoke machine.* We celebrated how smart we were by continuuing to booze in the hottub afterwards. (yes, i own a working hottub, i have huge balls).

I slept 3 hours, then went snowboarding, because the powder told me to. it was glorious. I also had more PBR. Meanwhile, Jen, the party MVP, picked up said karaoke machine. She also bought me a He-Man vs. Skeletor t-shirt, which is the greatest shirt on earth.

We planned on about 15 people. Estimates put the actual number closer to 30. My buddy Kevin even showed up from Columbia (hell of a commute). I started the karaoke ball rolling with a terrible rendition of Livin La Vida Loca. I mean it was really bad.

the ladies continued with excellent disco hits. Kevin then actually sang something that sounded good, which is why we hate him. Then we got into the reindeer juice and things got really interesting.

Midnight came and Andre 3000 champagne was consumed followed by lots of making out in public. My favorite part was when people started sledding down the stairs on their bellies. No worries because they did so whilst wearing my snowboard helmet and goggles. special props to P-flow for doing this with an open container. the Powder nymphs told me and kevin to ride a therma-rest pad down the stairs, double, ala Home Alone. This might have worked if my stairs didn't have a 90 degree turn. Last time i listen to those damn Powder nymphs.

Of course the evening then ended in the hottub. A fitting new-years, several bruises, and a reduced chance of me actually getting my deposit back on my house.

Ringo



* this evening did involve public nudity, which i personally have no record of, but Nick may

Thanksgiving for the Perfectos

I know what I’m thankful for, and that’s the fact that Aaron and I are still alive. Here’s how the Thanksgiving weekend happened. (See Ayo’s blog for an alternative, but probably not as good, account).

and here's the pics...
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Wed: Ayo flies in for about 7 hours of acclimatization. This is accomplished w/ Thai food and Japanese beer.

Thurs: Wow. Call time: 4 am. We (the All-Star Perfectos) leave the friendly confines of Denver for the harsh Rocky Mountains, whom we all know don’t fucking care. They’ll kill you. We drive to the base of Copper Mountain Ski Resort. The goal: ascend 2000 ft and 6 miles via cross-country skis to a virtually inaccessible cabin for a thanksgiving feast while carrying about 35 pounds of gear and food in sub-freezing temperatures. Certain death.

First we hike ½ mile while flipping off the shuttle bus that wouldn’t take us to where we needed to be. Then, the ski lifts that were supposed to take us 1000 ft up, were not working. Less than awesome. We now have to cross-country ski UP a ski run. Keep in mind that I only know how to snowboard and Aaron can count the number of times he has been skiing on one hand (he is also missing a thumb). After 45 minutes of sweating and cursing, we succeed in getting our skis on. This is followed by about 20 minutes of getting retarded: falling over, rolling around like a turtle, and making the mountains laugh at us.

About midmorning (we took no watches), we make our first step forward and up. We quickly find out that our sure-fire acclimatization plan for Aaron was not successful since he is hallucinating about polar bears and Scandinavian prostitutes. We trek on and almost lost our food when Aaron nearly fell off a rail-less bridge covered in 3 feet of snow (Aaron would have died also). Against all better judgment we pushed on.

After midday we reached the point of no return. No telling if we were going to find this mythical cabin or not, but we damn sure couldn’t go back now. Then the mountain got really steep….and we ran out of water….and the trail began to disappear into the snow…..and finally the sun began to go down. Lord knows I didn’t want to cuddle with Aaron in a sleeping bag/bivvy sack, so there was some concern.

With temperatures plummeting and Ayo plotting my assassination for dragging him along, we finally arrived at the greatest cabin I have ever seen. We would live. We quickly fired up the Franklin stove and cooked the most awesome thanksgiving feast possible with ground turkey and instant stuffing.

Well after dark a Yeti attacked the cabin. This actually turned out to be a crazy couple (also staying in the cabin) who had been snowshoeing through the dark, following our trail for a several hours. They were lucky to be alive. We shared our bourbon (just like the pilgrims and Indians) and we all gave thanks for not being dead and for not being OJ Chandler.

Fri: We rise early to begin our descent. Going up on cross-country skis, while tiring, is at least similar to walking. Going down on steep trails with 35 lbs on your back is disaster if your name is Ringo. I made up new curse words. Aaron helped me out by talking pictures of me as I writhed around in 3 ft of power on a 45 degree slope. He’s a piece of shit. I also hated the two snowshoers who followed us and tore up our nice ski-tracks and made our lives a living hell. There was a bit of frustration this day.

A positive of this leg of the trip was getting to ski down a mile of untouched powder on the unopened ski slope of Copper Mountain. Very boss. Victory was ours.

We then hike thru Copper resort where rich ski folks gawk at the freaks carrying funny ski equipment and huge packs. However, they were also impressed at the size of our huge steel balls.

We had some issues getting a hotel room to stay in Breckenridge, but once again, we played the huge steel ball card and there were no problems.

Sat: Early start to hit the slopes of Breck. I’m no expert snowboarder, but I felt like an X-games champion compared to those cursed skis. It even started snowing at lunch to give us powder in the afternoon.

Powder is pretty awesome until it closes I-70. However, the interstate was opened on the way to Denver, although that came with a 45% chance of death. Fortunately, the weight of our huge steel balls gave us traction, and the bourbon stilled Ayo’s nerves (definitely not driving), so that we escaped the mountains.

Back in Denver, we celebrated at the shittiest dive bar we could find. Bad idea. Cheap drinks are cool, but they couldn’t outweigh the toothless, gibberish speaking prostitute who kept trying to sell herself to us. I still feel nauseous.

Sun: Aaron is sent packing to the airport. Good luck getting those balls thru security.

ayo's account
http://dayglowayo.blogspot.com/

ayo's pics
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The Spaceshuttle Diaries

What have I been up to? Lately I’ve spent a lot of time dressing as a space man.

Last winter I was buying everything necessary for life at the thrift store, as I had none of these things except a snowboard and a tent. I came across an antique costume called “Little Astronaut” which featured a kick-ass plastic jumpsuit and helmet. Unfortunately, the jumpsuit was for a 6 yr old. BUT, I discovered the helmet not only featured a lock-down type bubble helmet, but also a hole to insert a straw for drinking while in outer space. Sold. I later picked up a fitting jumpsuit elsewhere, and Jen impressed everyone with her mad-sewing skills to put the hip NASA patches on.

The spacesuit was the only investment I have ever made. This past month has been nothing but profits.

The visual profits: http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AcMWLVy3bN2Hw

I tried it out in mid-October at some chick’s party. It was a “What You Want to Be when You Grow Up” party. I don’t really remember wanting to be an astronaut, but that was before I had such an ass-kicking costume. If more children had this outfit in the 70’s we’d be living on Mars right now.

The 2nd Annual Clown Pub Crawl (and probably last) gave me my next venue. I went as Pluto the Space Clown. Hideous yet awesome.

Then I wore it to a costume contest at a pub in Bret’s stomping grounds of Boulder. The people loved me, but I finished 2nd behind some crazy lesbian chick in a cupcake costume with real frosting. I know because the naughty cop made me taste it. That last sentence could be another blog entry all on its own.

The next evening consisted of a swank dance club filled with animals in costumes. Someone was even giving these animals booze. A highlight was Greg dressing up as himself 20 years from now. The ladies were afraid. As they should have been.

The last appearance was with the hippies to see a band do Michael Jackson covers. Now, I like Michael and all. I always wanted a red jacket with zippers and I can do a mean monster dance, but Jen was in euphoric state of pop-ecstasy. I’m surprised she’s not following this band's tour as a Jackson-5 groupie right now.

And thus the costume rests. It’s nice not wearing a helmet, but damn, I miss that hydration system.