Thursday, May 24

P's Romantic Valentine's Idea

So this year, P, and her oldest sister decided to do a double date for Valentine's Day. I know what you're thinking, wine tasting at a local vineyard, an overly expensive meal, a visit to the botanical gardens. Wrong, the Mole and his brother-in-law Co-Ray, we're taken to the Science Museum to see the Body Worlds exhibit. Some of you maybe asking yourself, Body Worlds, what's that? Basically it's dead people injected with plastic, so you can look at their dongs.

So Co-Ray and I bitch all the way to Dallas about having to check out dead people dongs all night, while the girls are in the back showing the first signs of irritation. It's educational they say, it'll be entertaining they say, all they while I'm wondering just how long it's going to be before I piss someone off tonight. Anyway, we wait in line, and eyes begin to roll. Co-Ray and I now bitching about our lack of intoxication coupled with the fact we're about enter the realm of plasticized man beef; gets continuous looks of disgust from those within ear shot. Co-Ray says, "I'm not nearly mature enough to be here", ditto. As the line starts to move, the tension builds, the dong references dry up, and the anticipation actually silences the Mole as my interest peaks on what I'm about see. We turn the corner, and there it is, white, dried up, and hanging. Terrific, running guy and his big fat baby arm.



As you can imagine, Co-Ray and I burst into giggles. It's like 5th grade science class and we're "studying" anatomy for the first time. Soccer mom on the left rolls her eyes, grandmother to the right shakes her head. Mole, front and center points to the man missile so that anyone not paying attention sees that I'm here for one reason and one reason only, unintenional comedy.

Room 1 deals with major organs and the body as a whole. As we enter and weave I realize I'm in a world that would give George A. Romero a semi. We see the smoker (and his dong), the chess player (and his dong), as well as slices of a guy that had a brain aneurism. Each body focused on a different body part, Runner = muscles, Smoker = lungs, Chess guy = Nerves/Brain. The Mole found it all fascinating, but P was none to pleased to see me hunched over at the seated chess dude, looking at his dong........laughing. Who cares though, I'm learning. On to exhibit hall 2 of 4.

This room confirmed my suspicions about this whole exhibit. Gunther Von Hagens, the scientist who developed the Plastination technique and put this thing together is fascinated with cock. You may say it's science, I say there's no reason plasticize 3 to 4 foot of horse wang, but he did. At this point, the wives have distanced themselves from Co-Ray and The Mole, as we move from case to case looking at different body parts, joking and laughing. Room 2 deals with the mid body and all the organs that belong there. We see removed lungs, hearts, stomachs, everything. However, the defining moment of the night occurred while looking at the sports hernia.
Mole: Wow, so that's what a sports hernia looks like.
Co-Ray: Where?
M: Right there.
CR: Where?
M: *pointing* BY HIS DONG!
So there, surround by about 25 people, Co-Ray covers his mouth, trying not to burst out into a huge belly laugh. What happens next is probably THE most surreal moment of my nearly 30 years on this earth. After my dong out-burst, Co-Ray, trying to hold in his laughter, rips one. I'm talking he fucking blows these people out. It's not even close to silent. It was as if the world stood still, and confusion engulfed all of the people surrounding us.

We Run.

We make our way to the corner of the room where we can hide behind a sign. The Mole is in tears, Co-Ray is doubled over laughing, and the night is finally a success, or is it? You see, the girls had separated themselves from us, and I hadn't yet pissed them or anyone else off. The fart was unfortunate, but really, no one around was mad; shocked, but not mad. I leave Co-Ray and find the girls on their way to Room 3. In the hall leading in, 3 animals are on display to show the vascularity of an animal. All the soft tissue, muscle, and bone are removed and the blood vessels are all that's left and it actually shows the animal's shape, cool! So I find them, looking at a chicken, standing side by side. I creep up, stick my head between their's and say, "Wow, just in case you haven't seen enough cock tonight, there you go."

I run.

The lesbian couple in front of P and her sister turn and shoot P a dirty look. P is officially pissed.

Hall 3 was all about muscularity, and finally we get a female or two to check out, but it's nothing to write home about. Once Co-Ray blew out about two dozen people the night had reached it's apex, nothing was going to get better. Hall 4 dealt with dead babies, which was disturbing, and the exit had a 6'4" dude holding a basketball. Apparently he was the largest body with the most muscularity donated to the exhibit, and yes, his dong was prominently on display.

So, what can be learned from the Body World's exhibit? 1. P and her sister like to do morbid things on Hallmark day. 2. Co-Ray could possibly have IBS. And 3. The ratio of dongs, to vag at the Body World's exhibit is 13:4 or 14:4 if you count the horse.

Ramada "Limited" - Austin Experience '07

So, for our trip to Austin this year, The Deuce got the game tickets, The Mole booked the room, and Dub-C tried not to wake up 40 miles outside of town, in a strange apartment with his contacts in his pocket. While we all fufilled our duties, the Ramada the Mole booked was definately a Ramada-Limited.

What follows is the from the comments portion of the survey they sent me about my stay:

On the subject of house keeping: Our room was NEVER cleaned, not once in 3 nights of stay.

Reservations: I made online reservations for a non-smoking room, when I walked in; I thought that the Marlboro man had sleep there the night before. It was disgusting.

Front Desk: One night our keys wouldn't work. When we went down to the front desk it took nearly an hour for someone to show up and help us. When they got there, they came out of back door entrance, carrying a purse, and smelling of Kool-Filter Kings. Now I'm no quantum physicist, but it shouldn't take even this low rent, over-weight Selena an hour to, in her words, "Program da TV".

As for service in General: I wouldn't even give the staff an F+. They were rude to our complaints, unresponsive when we asked for a cleaned room, and gave us no compensation for our time and trouble.

Guest Room: While the room itself had the 2 double beds we asked for, the "free wireless" never worked (again, the front desk unresponsive to our pleas for help), and again it was a smoking room.

I booked this room through a corporate discounting program. While I wasn’t in Austin doing business this particular trip, the company I work for is a Fortune 500 company dealing in the Aerospace Industry. I will be reporting the "lavish" conditions of this hotel to our corporate office, with a recommendation to pursue other options for our off-site travel needs.

Thanks for the opportunity to vent, now go upstairs and clean your room, No. 214.

Regards,

Mole
This will be the last Ramada I stay in.

Wednesday, May 23

Mini Buddha: Now 73% More Racist - The Austin Experience '07

Hold on to your tits, the Mole is back. Sorry I've been away but the 9-5 gig has me swamped, and that's not even mentioning the back stabbing fuck-holes that I'm forced to call softball with; but that's another entry. Anyway, I'm sorry I've been lacking in my posting duties, but I'll try to start back off on the right foot.

Number 1, Dub-C, The Deuce, Co-Ray and I went to the State Boy's basketball tourney again. This time, I armed myself with a voice recorder, and the following is what could be over heard throughout the weekend.

*You have the hair of a three year old.

*I just wanna make my pappy happy.

*God Damn Hippies.

*I just threw up in my mouth, no really, I've got something behind my tooth

New white chick friend: I was born in South Africa
Mole: Wow, that makes you African American, at least way more African American than Wyclef Jean.

*Hey, Rick Flair, WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO nice mullet!

*Don't bring that Crystal Light to a Kool-Aid party!

*Yeah, I just wanted to call while I'm still semi-coherent.

*He far, heyahhhhhhhhh waiiiii, yeeeeeeee, gabo say bob, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Dabaaaaaaaaa, cock sucker. Daba cock sucker. Flaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Shash, yeshhhhhh. Ki kat ki kat kimmy wanna haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa ki kat ki kat lick my dong.

*Nasal or anal?

*Does that say Waba? No, it says Exit 93 A. Somebody take the beer away from the driver.

*I used to work with a guy that would lactate, I called him Lactate Boy.

*Would you pee in her butt?

*What Color are you!!!!!!!!!!?

Oh the subject of the last statement, Dub-C, The Deuce, our driver that I'll refer to as Camp Longhorn and I are lucky to be alive. Dallas South Oak Cliff won the boys 4a final. For those of you not familiar with South Oak Cliff, it's the part of Dallas you don't want to visit at night. Anyway, they're great in basketball, and won their 3rd straight title. They also have a clapping chant in which they alternate a clap with the letters S-O-C. Enough back ground; Camp Longhorn, our Austin liaison, is waiting outside the Erwin Center in a handicap zone to pick us up and take us out for the night's festivities. After getting into her car, we pull up to a street corner where a group of SOC fans are chanting and clapping. The Deuce decides to hang out the window and join in. So as you can imagine, everyone on the corner stops to look, and lucky for us, there's a red light. So The Deuce is clapping and chanting to the SOC fans and they stare at the stupid white people like they're witnessing Nuclear fusion. The Deuce, apparently frustrated with their lack of school spirit, has probably the most terrible Freudian slip of all time.
S-O-C *clap, clap, clap*, S-O-C *clap, clap, clap*, S-O-C *clap, clap, clap* Come on do it with me! Jesus, what color are you?
This is the part where O-Dog is supposed to bust a cap in our ass, but I think they were just as stunned as we were. Dub-C leaned down below the window, I pulled my basketball net hat down over my face, The Deuce calmy says, "Oh", and Camp Longhorn runs the red light to get us out of there.

Unbelieveable, but hey I'm still here.